A Simple Salt And Burn
by blue peanut m and m
Summary: A simple salt and burn Joshua had stated, but when have things ever been simple for the Winchester's? The brother's first hunt since Gordon's death and Sam's new found ability. Sequel to What Goes Around Comes Around.
1. Chapter 1

**A Simple Salt And Burn.**

**Summary. . . . . . "A simple salt and burn" Joshua had stated, but when had things ever been simple for the Winchester's? The brother's first hunt since Gordon's death and Sam's latest ability, takes an unexpected turn as they hunt something that they have never hunted before, and Sam's ability isn't as controllable as they had thought. Sequel to What Goes Around Comes Around.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . . Mistakes are mine; the Winchester's unfortunately are not.**

**A.N. . . . . . I have to give a massive shout out to Darksupernatural for pushing me to keep on with this fic, without her constant support this would still be on my desk gathering dust. Also to Perfectharmony and Fwennie for their encouraging words, and to sammygirl1963, sorry it's not the one you were routing for, that will be here soon. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy, Peanut x**

The call had come in first thing this morning. Joshua had heard of a hunt but was unable to check it out himself. Something was killing travelers that stopped at an old plantation mansion in Carolina.

"It sounds like a routine salt and burn, Bobby. It could be just what Sam and Dean need to get back into the swing of things."

"It's too soon!" Bobby angrily replied.

"Bobby, it's been two months. It's time for them to get back into it."

Bobby sighed, Josh was right, it was time for the boys to take up the hunt again but still a little part of him didn't want them too, the little part that didn't want them to get hurt. "I'll talk to them later, offer it up, and leave it up to them to decide." He finally relented.

"That's all I'm asking. Let me know what they say, if they don't want it I'll pass it on." Josh paused before adding uncomfortably. "How are they doing?"

He had stayed at Bobby's for the first few days after Sam and Dean's rescue from Gordon, but the enormous weight of all the emotions floating around had been too much for the normally reserved hunter. The final push had been on the third morning when Sam had awakened the house, crying out caught in yet another nightmare. They had eventually managed to calm him down and get him to wake up, only for him to be taken straight back into a flashback. The look of sheer panic and anguish on the youngest Winchester's face as he remembered yet more of the things that he had done, and more of the things that had been done to him, had been too much for Joshua to handle.

Feelings that were unusual to him had come rushing to the surface, threatening to overwhelm him, and unknowing how to express them he had chosen instead to run away from the cause, to run away to escape the feelings, to try and kill things so that they would go away. No matter how far he had run though, no matter how many creatures he had killed, or women he had slept with to try and forget he just couldn't. Sam's tear streaked, wide eyed, haunted broken features had burned them selves deep into Joshua's mind and for the first time in a very long time the older man found himself caring deeply for someone.

"They seem to be doing fine on the surface, but every now and then something will trigger off a memory and it all comes flooding back."

"Is Sam still having the nightmares?"

"Yeah daily, but you know that boy he's just as stubborn as his father was. He tries to hide the fact that he is from us, which needless to say doesn't go down well with Dean."

"I can imagine. Do you really think that they're up to this then Bobby? I can try and get someone else." Joshua's doubts now surfacing.

"Nah! You're probably right; it is time for them to get back into it. They should be back soon; I'll ask them and let you know."

"Okay Bobby, thanks. Wish the boy's well for me. I'll talk to you later."

After Bobby had said his goodbyes and hung up, he mulled over the past two months. He hadn't lied to Joshua, things were getting better, but both Winchester's still had a very long way to go, Sam especially. The nightmares were only part of Bobby's worries. Sam's back had been slow to heal, his knee taking even longer. The interruptions to his sleep not allowing his body to heal as it should. The main cause of worry though was this new found ability and the fall out Sam received every time he used it. Unlike his visions and telekinesis, both times he had used it he had found that he could somewhat control it. But just like the visions, only worse, the aftermath was debilitating, Sam still feeling the effects nearly two days later.

It was the fact that he even had this ability though that was hurting Sam the most. When they had defeated yellow eyes, Sam had been under the impression that his connection to the dark side had also been triumphed, with the new power though it seemed that that was not the case. Sam had become convinced once again that he would turn, that he would hurt someone, that Dean would have to kill him. And no matter what Dean and Bobby said to try and convince him differently, nothing would work. Bobby had caught Sam depressing over this numerous times, but short of trying once again to reassure the youngest Winchester, there was nothing else that he could do to try and break these melancholy black moods.

Hearing the rumble of the Impala returning Bobby made up his mind. This hunt was just what the brother's needed; now all he had to do was convince them. Waiting for Sam and Dean to enter, Bobby took two beers from the fridge and set the coffee pot going. As the front door opened the boy's bickering reached his ears and he inwardly groaned, yep this hunt was definitely needed if only to give him a break.

"Bobby." Dean greeted when he eventually stepped through the kitchen door. "Is one of those for me?" He added gesturing towards the beers.

"Yep, just out of the fridge. What are you two arguing about now?"

"Oh you know the usual life and death stuff. Sam was trying to convince me that CD's were better than tapes. Personally I think he's drank one too many of those girlie frothy latte thingies he so loves, they've damaged him."

Bobby chuckled to himself, knowing that Sam was fighting a losing battle with Dean on this one; he wondered why he kept on trying, why he hadn't given up yet. "Where is Sam? I need to talk to you both."

"He's just cleaning himself up. He got covered in his coffee when I had to swerve suddenly to avoid this big ass dog that ran into the road. I swear there was one there, but Sam won't believe me, don't know why? What's up Bobby? Why do you want to talk to us? Have you finally got fed up of having Sam as a houseguest? You got a hot chick coming round?"

"What? No! I love. . . . . What I mean to say is, I like having you guys around." Seeing Dean's shit eating grin plastered onto his face, Bobby stumbled even more over his words as he tried desperately to avoid one of Dean's so called chick flick moments, deciding in the end it would be better to keep quiet until Sam arrived thankful that he didn't have to wait too long.

"Hey Bobby." Sam greeted, at seeing the older hunters beetroot face he quickly, and with concern added. "You okay, you're looking a bit flushed. Are you coming down with something?"

Before Bobby could answer Dean jumped in. "Bobby was just saying how much he loved having us around."

Sam laughed something the other two hunters had missed these past two months. "Somehow Dean, I can't see him saying that about you!"

"Hey! I'm hurt! Well okay, would you believe he said he liked having us around?"

Sam just shook his head in answer to Dean's teasing of their host. Taking the coffee that Bobby offered, he sat down opposite his brother, noticing as he did so the older mans apprehension. "What's the matter Bobby? Has someone been hurt? Is Josh okay?" He eventually asked.

Bobby anxiously rubbed his hands over his course whiskers wondering silently to himself, as his doubts came back, if he should just keep quiet and get Josh to find someone else to do the job. His need to see the boys back to normal though won through and he found himself bluntly blurting out. "Joshua found a hunt he wants you guys to have a look at, just a straight forward salt and burn." He stole a quick glance at both boys, and then added. "We can find someone else if you don't feel ready yet."

"We're ready." Sam stated at the same time as Dean said. "Find someone else!"

Both brothers's looked at one another, Sam finally breaking the ice. "Dean! What the. . . . . "

"You're not ready Sam. You're not a hundred percent fit."

"Don't tell me how I feel Dean! I'm fine and I'm ready to get back into the hunt."

"Stop lying Sam. You know that you're not ready. Your back and your knee still hurt you, and. . . . ."

"And what, Dean? You scared that my freaky ass new ability will happen again? You know that I can control it, stop worrying about it. Stop worrying about me. And as for the back and knee we've both hunted with worse injuries. We can do this."

"Yeah well I don't want us to. And I'm sorry Sam but I can never stop worrying about you."

"I know, it was a poor choice of words. But Dean what's really bugging you about this hunt and don't blame me."

Dean paused before answering, contemplating whether or not to allow yet another chick flick moment to occur, in the end figuring why not, what was one more to add to the stack they had had this past few months. "I'm scared Sammy. I don't want anything bad to happen to you. I don't want you to get hurt again."

"I won't Dean. You'll be there to watch my back."

"Sam, don't you get it? I wasn't there last time; I wasn't there to protect you, what if I mess up again?"

"Dean, you did all you could do. You were captured too remember? Don't blame yourself for that, it was Gordon's doing and he's dead now so there's no danger there. Dean we have to get back out there and start fighting again. It's what we do."

"But what if you have a flashback? What then? You crumble when they occur Sam, what if you have one in the middle of the hunt?"

"Then we'll deal with it. Maybe though I'm only having them because we haven't moved on yet? Maybe they'll stop if we start hunting and moving forward? Dean you can't keep me wrapped up in cotton wool forever, we need to start working again."

Dean rubbed at his eyes with his hands, suddenly feeling old and tired beyond his years. He knew that Sam was right; that they should start working again, that he couldn't keep him hidden away forever, but something was nagging in his mind. "Josh said it was a simple salt and burn?" Bobby nodded. "Did he say what it was?"

"He thinks that it's just an angry spirit."

"But he's not sure right? It could be something worse?"

"All the signs are pointing to spirit, but you know as well as I do that you can't tell until you get out there. Dean if you don't feel up to it, we can get someone else, hell I'll even go do it, let Josh research his own hunt himself."

Dean looked at Sam before turning back Bobby's way." No, Josh will need your help. It's okay Sam's right, it is time. Pack up brother we leave tonight."

**A.N. . . . . Hope that the start wasn't too slow for you, it will pick up pace I promise. Updates on this fic will be sporadic until after silly season has finished, sorry. Oh and I should just say as this is mostly AU, that although yellow eyes is dead, there's no crossroads deal been made. Thanks again for reading, catch you soon, Peanut x**


	2. Chapter 2

**A Simple Salt And Burn.**

**Summary . . . . . . "A simple salt and burn" Joshua had stated, but when had anything ever been simple for the Winchester's? The brother's first hunt since Gordon's death and Sam's latest new found ability, takes an unexpected turn as they hunt something that they have never hunted before, and Sam's ability isn't as controllable as they thought. Sequel to What Goes Around Comes Around.**

**Disclaimers . . . . . As always all mistakes are my own; alas the Winchy's are not!**

**A.N. . . . . . I'm so very sorry for such a long wait for an update, I started a new job and just haven't been able to get back into writing again. I have to give a huge shout out to Darksupernatural, with out her constant support and words of encouragement I think I would still be tearing my hair out trying to get motivated. So this one is for you!**

The sun had just set over the horizon as the Impala finally rumbled its way out of Bobby's yard with its two occupants, leaving Bobby relishing the peace and quiet that was to come yet at the same time apprehensive about the boy's first hunt back. Dean was also feeling apprehensive, the negative feelings about Joshua's simple salt and burn he had been feeling kept gnawing at him, intensifying with every mile that past them by.

This was reflected in the drive from Bobby's to Jacksonboro, South Carolina; a drive that Dean would normally take two days to make had turned into a four day journey with stopovers every night. In his head he tried to convince himself that the stops were so that Sam could rest, he was after all still recovering from his injuries, but that was only half the truth. This hunt was bothering him, but for the life of him he couldn't place why.

Sam, if he felt anything different, odd about the drive stayed quiet about it, spending most of the time instead reading through the numerous pages he had printed out about the area, trying to find some more details to go on; so far though he had come up with nothing.

"It's weird Dean, there's nothing written anywhere to give us any clues as to what we are dealing with. The Dalton's moved to the Jacksonboro area at the turn of the 19th century, built the plantation from scratch, worked hard and treated their workers well. There's no suspicious deaths related to either them, or the house, or the grounds. After the war it lay in semi ruin. The only thing that is mentioned is the fact that the current owner, Amy Dalton, has recently restored the house to its former glory and changed some of the insides, making it into a guest house."

"You think that they could have disturbed something? Or someone? Pissed off some dead people? You know these old plantations; people came looking for work all the time. Who would really notice if some of them suddenly went missing? They would just presume that they had run off, just left."

"I just don't get the feeling that is what has happened here. As I said the Dalton's were genuinely nice people who treated their workers better than anyone else did, why would they run away? There's even rumors that they had an under ground rail road, if that's true then there's no reason for anyone to have run off. Plus given all the hate that was flying around at that time, why would you hide killing anyone? They could have done it in broad daylight and no one would have battered an eye."

"Well okay Einstein, what are we dealing with here? If not an angry spirit, then what?"

"That's just it Dean, I really have no clue. All signs point to an angry spirit, but then again the last two deaths reeked of a wendigo. The police report photos showed deep lacerations to the torso and arms, but wendigo victims are rarely found so that rules that suggestion out."

"Not necessarily Sam, remember that old guy we interviewed. . . . . "

"Dean, Mr. Shaw survived."

"Yeah I know that, but what if the last to victims had been left behind but their injuries were just too severe that they succumbed before they could be found?"

"That's one hell of an assumption Dean, but I have nothing else to go with so I guess we'll go in prepared for a wendigo and hope for the best."

"Guess so, unless your geeky brain can come up with some more information before we get there."

Both men had quieted down afterwards, Dean concentrating on the road once more, looking for somewhere to stop for the night; Sam looking again through the printouts, hoping to find something that he had missed.

They had turned off I95 and onto secondary road 65 making the last leg of the journey when Dean spotted the diner and motel. Pulling into the busy car park, he parked his baby up, shut her off and prepared to get out; unaware that Sam was watching his every move a look off confusion written on his face.

"Dude, what are you doing?"

Dean looked around a bewildered look crossing his face. "Stopping for the night and to get some food, what does it look like?"

"Dean, it's only 8 o'clock, it's still early. We should keep driving and get a look at the plantation tonight."

"No!"

"No! What do you mean no?"

"I mean no. I'm tired and hungry. I want to go into the hunt fresh, so that means checking your back and knee and getting a good night sleep. We're stopping."

"But Dean. . . . ."

"Sam, we're stopping so cut out with the whining and get your lanky ass out of the damn car. I'll go and check us in, you go grab a table." Dean went to get the bags out of the trunk, smiling to him self as he heard the Impala's door creak open and Sam's grumbles as he got out. As his brother started to head for the diner, concern suddenly washed over Dean and he quickly shouted out. "Be careful Sam."

Sam knew what his brother meant; Dean rarely let him go any where on his own nowadays. After the Benders, yellow eyes and Gordon had all managed to get to Sam whilst he was alone, Dean now felt he needed to be with him twenty four hours a day. He looked back over his shoulder and tried to give Dean a reassuring smile. When that didn't seem to work he lifted the back of his jacket so that his brother could see the gun nestling in the waist band of his jeans.

The diner was pretty crowded as Sam walked in but he managed to grab a booth at the back with a view of the whole diner and no chance of anyone creeping up behind him. Folding his tall frame into the small space, he picked up the salt shaker and idly played with it whilst waiting for the waitress, his mind thinking of the hunt and his brother's seeming reluctance to get it started.

He was so caught up in his thoughts he didn't hear the waitress approach, or hear her ask if he was ready to order, only realizing that she was in fact there when she touched his arm, the resulting shock and jump sending the salt shaker skittering from his fingers and shooting for the end of the table. Sam's hand shot out to save it at the same time the waitresses did, both missing the shaker completely their fingers instead connecting with each others.

A jolt of electricity coursed through Sam, images of death, misery and great sadness pounding his mind. The connection lasted barely a few seconds before the smashing of the salt shaker broke through the connection, those few seconds though were enough to leave Sam ashen faced, and trembling in both pain and fear, what the hell had just happened?

"Sir, Sir, are you okay? I'm sorry that I startled you. It's only a salt shaker though, no need to worry. Sir?"

Dean had walked in as the shaker had smashed, his senses immediately going on high alert. He wasn't surprised when he found that his brother was somehow involved in what ever was going on, striding over he took in the broken glass, the spilt salt, the nervous waitress. They were all forgotten though as he finally caught sight of Sam, shaking, pale and completely out of it sat in the booth.

"Sam? Sammy?" Dean's fears increased when no answer was forth coming. "What the hell happened here?" He shouted at the nervous waitress, bringing tears to her eyes.

"I don't know. I startled him, the shaker fell, that's all. Is he going to be alright?"

Dean ignored the question, choosing instead to try and get through to his brother, Sam's eyes were wildly unfocused, a soft sheen of sweat gracing his forehead, all color drained from his face. "Sam, c'mon snap out of it dude." Dean crooned, as he gently rubbed his brother's arm. He watched from the corner of his eye as the waitress left not really caring, he just wanted to know what the hell had happened. All signs were pointing to another flash back, but Dean couldn't figure what would have triggered it.

A loud gasp coming from Sam had Dean breaking from his thoughts and focusing on his brother once again. "Sam, hey are you okay?" Dean finally asked as Sam's eyes began to focus once more. "What happened, bro?"

Sam glanced nervously around the diner before settling his eyes on his brother. "Nothing, I just got startled. Can I have the room key? I'm not that hungry anymore, I think I might just turn in."

"Sam!. . . . . "

"Dean, I'm okay. I guess the trip has just caught up with me. I'll just go to sleep and get refreshed for tomorrow."

"Okay, I'll order out and come with you."

"Dean, stay. I'm fine really. . . . ."

"The hell you are Sam, you're as white as a ghost, you're sweating and you're shaking. What the hell is wrong? And what just went on?" Dean lowered his voice before adding. "Did you have a vision?"

"What? No! Dean, honestly I'm just tired and got spooked." Sam replied, smiling briefly trying to alleviate some of his brother's worries. "Listen if you don't want to stay, then come back with me, but I am just gonna shower and then crash."

Dean decided to let it drop for now, knowing that Sam wouldn't be able to keep what was bothering him inside for very long. "Okay Sam, I'll eat and then come back. We're in room 18."

Sam hated lying to Dean but what could he really tell him? He didn't even comprehend what had just happened himself. Raising him self up on shaky legs, he reached out with an equally shaky hand and grasped the key that Dean was holding out for him and shuffled out of the diner. His head had started to throb mercilessly and all he really wanted to do was lie down and forget these past few minutes had ever happened.

Dean watched as Sam slowly left, his already high feelings of trepidation growing with every one of his brother's steps. As the door closed softly behind Sam, Dean made up his mind, if Sam was still troubled with this in the morning they would abandon this hunt. Something that Dean was beginning to hope they would have to do.

**A.N. . . . . Well that's it, hope it was worth the wait. Before I forget, I really have no idea how long it would take to get from Bobby's to South Carolina so I guessed, also I don't know if there are plantations in Jacksonboro, I just like the name. Thanks as always for reading, I hope to catch you soon, Peanut x**


	3. Chapter 3

**A Simple Salt And Burn.**

**Summary. . . . . . "A simple salt and burn" Joshua has stated, but when had things ever been simple for the Winchester's? The boy's first hunt since Gordon's death and Sam's latest ability, takes an unexpected turn when they hunt something they have never hunted before and Sam's ability turns out to be not as controllable as they had thought. Sequel to What Goes Around Comes Around.**

**Disclaimer. . . . Just the usual, boys not mine but the mistakes unfortunately are!**

**A.N. . . . . . This is dedicated to all the lurkers out there, thanks for reading, Peanut x**

Sam trudged slowly, through the thick balmy night time air, back to the motel room. His head felt as though he had gone a couple of rounds with a poltergeist it was pounding so much, each throb sending messages to his stomach, which had started churning uncomfortably; the smell of the dirty grease coming from the back of the diner doing nothing to ease his discomfort. He tried to take his mind of his sickness by thinking about what had just happened. Deep down he knew that it wasn't a vision, but the aftermath sure felt like one. The guy's death in the images though had seemed to Sam to have already happened and probably not within the last few days. But if it wasn't a vision, what the hell was it?

Arriving at their room, Sam with a shaky hand unlocked the door and quickly stepped inside, his already dodgy stomach clenching tightly at the sight that greeted his eyes. They had in the past stayed at some flea pit motels, but this one surely had to rank up there as the worst. Well worn purple shag pile carpet covered the floor, suspicious looking stains standing out in places, stains that Sam wasn't sure he wanted to know the cause of. Mustard yellow walls clashed violently with both the flooring and the pale green bedspreads, watermarks and mould visible on both the walls and the ceiling.

Not wanting to risk sitting on the beds Sam chose instead to sit at the small table that was also housing the rooms T.V, placing his elbows on his knees he hung his throbbing head into his hands. Breathing deeply he closed his eyes and attempted to ease his rebelling stomach before he risked looking into the small bathroom, the images he had previously seen though flashed up once again and Sam stumbled of the chair and furiously ran to the toilet before he could add his own pattern to the carpet. It didn't take long for his nearly empty stomach to empty completely and feeling so tired and in pain, he didn't think about what he was doing and sat back onto the grubby floor, not really caring how dirty it was.

Once he felt well enough to stand, Sam slowly picked himself up and sluggishly staggered back into the main room, grabbing his laptop out of its bag he powered up and with a wry grin that the motel actually had wi-fi clicked online, thinking that he would try and find out more about tomorrows hunt. Fifteen long minutes later though he had still not found any new information, deciding to try one of the small local papers before giving up for the night he typed in the address and waited, pleased, when the site finally popped up, at finding something that caught his eye. Nothing to do with the hunt, but to do with the images he had seen.

It was one of the headlines from the previous week's paper that was refocusing on a murder that had happened six months previous. The killer had never been found and the victim's family was requesting that readers think back, maybe they had seen something and thought it nothing when in fact it could be the missing piece to finding the killer. In the accompanying photo, Sam's waitress was stood with two teenage boys. So it wasn't a vision that Sam had seen, but some sort of sympathetic reaction? Some sort of empathy maybe? Still feeling at a loss to what had happened Sam shut the site down before turning the computer off. Grabbing some clothes he headed for the shower, thinking that after sitting on the floor it couldn't be that bad. Twenty minutes later he emerged in a cloud of steam, feeling more refreshed, to find Dean lounging on one of the beds.

"Hey, you feeling any better?" Dean spoke up first.

"Yeah, not too bad." Sam answered hoping that Dean wouldn't push anymore. He really should have known better though.

"What's going on Sam? I know that you're hiding something and I don't like it."

"Dean, I'm fine. I was just thinking about the hunt and the waitress startled me. Really I'm okay, quit worrying about me."

"You're such a liar, Sam. That was more then you just being startled, you looked scared, you looked like you were ready to pass out, you looked like you used to look after you had a vision. Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Did you have a vision about the hunt? Is something going to happen and you're refusing to tell me because you know I'll pull the plug on the whole thing?"

"No, Dean I swear to you, I did not have a vision. I was tired, I was sore, I let my guard down and she spooked me. And I. . . . . ." Sam trailed off not liking what he was about to do.

"And what, Sam?"

"And I sort of banged up my back."

"Son of a bitch! Get your damn shirt off Sam. Why the hell didn't you say something?"

Sam didn't answer, guilt eating away at him for the lie he had just told, for playing on his brother's need to make sure Sam was never in pain. He hadn't hurt his back at all, but he knew that by saying he had, Dean would back off asking the questions. He slowly stripped his shirt off and presented his scarred back for Dean to examine.

"Well you haven't bruised it, or opened any of the wounds; you must have just pulled it. You sure you're feeling okay? Do you need any painkillers?"

Sam sighed deeply, hating himself for unleashing Dean's mother hen mode, but it had served its purpose and for that reason he would have to put up with it. "I already took some, I'm just tired. I think that I'll call it a night, get myself refreshed for tomorrow." Sam wasn't lying this time, he really was feeling exhausted. Making his way over to his bed, he turned back the covers and trying hard to not think what could be living in there, climbed in fully clothed. He fussed with the pillows for a few minutes before his breathing deepened and he fell into a deep sleep.

Dean watched as Sam crawled into his bed, watched as he had finally fallen asleep. One look at Sam's back had been enough for Dean to know that his brother was lying to him again. For some unknown reason Sam couldn't tell him what was going on and that scared the hell out of Dean. He could only hope that it wasn't something to do with the hunt. He noticed the laptop out of its bag and went over hoping that it contained some answers. Making himself a cup of bad motel coffee as it powered up, Dean returned once it had and quickly brought up its history. The gulp of coffee he had just taken nearly spilling out of his mouth onto the keys when he saw the news clipping of the waitress that had startled Sam.

Dean remembered her words to him after Sam had left. "Our fingers touched and he just froze." Unlike Sam who had passed out after he had tortured Gordon and was too spent after using his power on Dean, he had been witness to the aftermath, and now he came to think about it, it all fit. Sam's pallor, his shakiness, his pained features; all were present and visible after he had used it on Gordon and himself. Sam must have unintentionally tapped into his power and used it on the waitress, and with him not knowing what the after effects felt like panicked. This was not good; they had after all thought that Sam had some sort of control over this one, now it seemed he didn't.

Sam shuffling on the bed had Dean looking his way in an instant, concern registering on his face. Picking up his phone he headed outside, careful to leave the door slightly ajar. Bobby picked up on the third ring.

"Dean? Is everything okay? Are you in trouble?"

"Yeah, no, hell Bobby, I don't know! We just got here and stopped outside Jacksonboro for the night and Sam had an incident."

"Incident? What do you mean?"

"Sam's new power kicked in when he accidentally touched the waitress in the diner we stopped at. It was only for a second and he seems alright now, but I'm not sure about him going into this hunt right now. What if it happens again?"

"You want me to find someone else to do it?"

Dean paused and looked back through the crack in the door into the room at his still sleeping sibling. He really wanted to say yes, but he knew that Sam would never agree that he would find some way to finish the hunt himself. "No, I think we'll be fine. I'm just. . . . . . . . . . You know what forget it. I'll call you tomorrow with an update after we've visited the mansion."

Dean hung up soon after and made his way back inside, getting into his own bed he tried to ease his worries and get some rest himself. Bobby mean while was concerned. Dean's words, or lack of them, were sending off warning bells in his head. Packing a bag as quickly as he could he strode out to his truck, the feeling that he would be needed playing on his mind.

Dean felt as though he had only just closed his eyes when he heard the sound of Sam returning to the room, coffee and bagels in hand. He looked under heavy lids at his younger brother, pleased to note that his complexion had turned back to normal and the pained look had disappeared.

"Is one of those for me?" He eventually managed to speak out around a yawn.

"Yeah, why don't you have a shower, we'll eat and then check out the plantation."

Dean agreed and hopped out of bed, a grimace forming on his face as his bare feet touched the sticky carpet.

The temperature had risen to unbearable levels as the Impala finally swung through the open gates of the plantation's grounds. A grand driveway stretched out before them, at the end of which stood the main house. Brilliant white walls and columns stood beneath a red brick roof, matching red shutters aged through the years by the scorching sun graced the sides of every window.

"Wow!" Sam whispered out. "It's gorgeous."

Dean just rolled his eyes, to his mind it was what it was, a house. He caught sight of the many cars parked to the side and couldn't help but shake his head. "People are weird. There's been what, five deaths so far here and they still want to stay?" He parked his baby alongside a brand new Mercedes cls and got out. "You know I think we might have to use one of the cards and stay some nights here. I know that you loved that carpet in the old place. . . . . . . ."

"Shut up! I think you're right, we might have too. Some parts of the grounds are private property; you can only get to them if you're a guest."

"Let's get checked in then."

Dean waited for Sam to get out of the car before locking the doors. Both men retrieved their bags from the trunk and set off for the mansion's entrance. As they neared the steps that led up to the front door Sam stopped as he heard rustling in the bushes to his right. He glanced over to see if he could see anything, as a cold chill raced down his spine, but the thickets were too dense.

"You okay?" Dean asked after he had noticed Sam's absence.

"Yeah, fine." Sam returned as he walked back up to his brother.

As both Winchester's entered into the foyer a pair of malicious red eyes watched them go.

**A.N. . . . . . Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading, Peanut x**


	4. Chapter 4

**A Simple Salt And Burn.**

**Summary. . . . . .** **"A simple salt and burn" That's what Joshua had said, but when had anything ever been simple for the Winchester's? The boy's first hunt since Gordon's death and Sam's latest ability, takes an unexpected turn as they hunt something they have never hunted before and Sam's ability turns out not to be a controllable as they thought. Sequel to What Goes Around Comes Around.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . . Same as always I'm afraid, the guys are not mine, the mistakes are!**

**A.N. . . . . . Salt lamps ROCK! Darksupernatural, thank you so much for mine and seeing as though you wont let me return the favor, this chapter is dedicated to you!**

To say that the brother's received some curious and rather rude stares from other guests as they walked through the ornate double doors and into the huge grand hallway that housed the guest houses reception, would be an understatement, their dirty boots and ripped jeans ensured that most eyes followed their every move. Most guests eventually looked away, a few gripped more tightly to their purses, but one couple watched their every step from the door to the counter; little snickers coming every now and then from behind hands placed to mouths. Only Sam reminding him that they were here to work stopped Dean from going over, even though the younger brother's temper was also beginning to wear thin. Dean's whispered back comment of "if they're the next victims, I vote we leave them" made Sam smile and the rest of checking in passed by more pleasurably. That smile and the accidental nudge Sam did to the guy, as the boys were being led to their room, making his drink spill over the woman's dress and her shriek loudly, eased Dean's mood immensely.

His mood further improved when they finally entered the room that was to be their home for the next few days. Dean didn't think he had ever seen such a pristine, clean room. And the space, his mouth hung open as he took in the two queen sized beds that still left the room looking empty. To the foot of them stood a huge opulent fireplace, two wing chairs placed to either side, a small table between them. On one side of double French doors stood a couch that Sam would look lost sitting on, to the opposite side of the doors there was an entertainment unit that housed the TV, DVD, minibar and coffee machine. Behind the couch was the doorway to the walk in closet, that you had to pass through to get to the bathroom. And what a bathroom! Dean's eyes lit up as he took in the huge sunken tub and most especially the spacious shower. Somehow he didn't think they would have to worry about running out of hot water and he began to feel his concerns and worries about Sam and this hunt ease away at the thought of testing that shower later.

Dean returned to the main room a short time later to find the double doors flung open revealing a large private balcony, and his brother lying on one of the two loungers in the shade, laptop open and booted up, but his head lolling to one side and his eyes closed. The heat of the sun, and the lingering effects of last night, relaxing him and sending him easily off into a deep sleep. Wanting to allow his brother what little rest he could get, Dean chose not to disturb him. Instead he went back into the main room and after raiding the minibar and helping himself to an assortment of snacks, settled back onto the couch TV remote in hand.

Sam awoke a few hours later with a slightly stiff neck, but feeling more refreshed than he had been. Looking back into the room he could see Dean dozing, empty soda cans, a beer bottle and an assortment of empty wrappers littered around him, Sam chuckled softly at the sight. Getting up he stretched out his muscles before walking over to the edge of the balcony and began to take in the views. In front of their room, landscaped gardens stretched away from the house and off towards the woods that lined the property to this side, stone walls separating the wild from the tame. A monumental fountain stood in the of a pathway, a pathway that eventually stopped at a gate that led to the trails the woods provided. To Sam's left, he could see the lawns and the driveway they had driven down earlier, in the distance the family's small cemetery could just be made out, an investigation of which, Sam could see on the agenda for later. To Sam's right, and to the back off the house, stood the plantation's cotton fields.

Sam stayed there for a long while, just watching the other guests walking about, his thoughts for the first time in a long while drifting to Jess and how much she would have loved it here. The afternoon was just beginning to come to an end when a mumbled curse finally broke through his day dreams and he took one last look around before turning and going back into the room, where Dean was finally stirring.

"I was thinking." Sam spoke out after seeing Dean's eyelids finally push themselves to half mast.

"Well that's never a good thing, geek boy." Dean threw back, his mind still coming to full wakefulness and processing the fact he had slept most of the afternoon away.

Sam just huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes before trying again. "I was thinking that we should check out the grounds while it's still light, see if we can pick up any clues. I saw the family cemetery out front that seems as good a place as any to start. This thing, this spirit, it only seems to be attacking at night, so we should be good for another hour yet."

"Sounds like a plan to me. You want the grounds or the graves?"

"I'll take the grounds."

Dean nodded his agreement and picking up the Impala keys headed for the door. He stopped suddenly on the threshold and turned back towards Sam, a concerned look upon his face. "You okay to do this? Are you feeling okay?"

"Dean!" Sam drew out.

"I'm just checking Sam. Listen I know that there's something your not telling me, I'm just hoping that you'll trust me enough to do so soon, and that it wont interfere with this hunt. I don't want you going into this if you're not ready."

"I'm ready Dean, and I'm fine. So are you going to stop with the worrying and help me check this out?"

Dean looked at his brother, checking for signs that Sam wasn't ready, but Sam's masks were firmly in place. He sighed deeply but turned around to leave, asking over his shoulder. "You have your phone right?"

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After getting their e.m.f readers from the trunk the boys split up agreeing to meet up an hour later. Sam, because of his closer location, was the first to return. Placing the notes he had made next to the laptop, he headed for the fridge to get a soda while he waited for the internet to connect. He had just logged onto the guest houses web page when the door opened and Dean strode in.

"Anything?" The older brother asked as he dropped onto one of the beds.

"I don't know. . . . maybe. I got some small e.m.f readings from around the gardens, mostly near the gate and the fountain, but not enough to get a lock onto anything. As I said they were small, barely even registered but I'm going to see of there's anything written on the web. How about you?"

"I got readings too, strong ones. I think we should go back after dark and check it out."

"Okay, I want to look into this, if you want the first shower go ahead." After getting an agreement from his brother, he added as he was walking through the door. "Then we'll get something to eat, before we go back out."

"Great." Dean shouted back through the closed door. "I'm starving. Do you think that they do burgers?"

The hotels restaurant did in fact do burgers and very good ones at that, Dean devouring two and a huge plateful of fries before he decided that he was ready to go hunting. Dean loaded up his shotgun, as Sam tucked his favorite handgun into the band of his jeans. Both Winchester's strategically placing knives about their bodies. Although the sky was clear of cloud cover, the new moon meant that it provided very little light to guide them by, their torches left behind in the car to avoid detection. The walk to the graveyard proved uneventful though and passed without incident, as did the search of the plots, the e.m.f this time staying ominously quiet. Both men looked at one another, what the hell was going on here? They knew that, although there was no real pattern to the previous deaths, they had all happened between eleven and one, and always when guests were strolling around the grounds, yet tonight there was nothing.

They decided to walk back thinking that they would try again tomorrow, Dean's foot had just landed on the first step to the houses front door when two simultaneous screams rang out, coming from the direction of the gardens. Both brother's sprinted towards the disturbance, Sam's longer stride inching him in front of Dean. As they turned the corner the screams sounded again, this time coming from two different parts of the enclosure.

"You find the woman, I'll get the guy." Dean shouted out, whilst leaving Sam's side and heading off towards the back of the gardens and the start of the woods, his sibling heading towards the middle and the fountain.

Sam spotted the woman the woman running away from him and ran after her; catching up to her as she ran between two rows of conifers and straight into a dead end created by them and the brick wall that encircled the gardens. He slowed down, spreading his arms wide to show he meant no harm, inching closer he whispered softly to her words of comfort "its okay, its okay. You're safe now." He was less than three feet away when she screamed once more, her eyes going wild as she pointed at something behind Sam. He span around quickly, trying to see what had freaked her out so much, the movement saving his life as he felt the sting of something, that was aimed for his back, colliding with his shoulder. He caught a glimpse of his attacker, his mind instantly dismissing what he thought he saw. They weren't real, they didn't belong here, but his eyes were telling him differently.

As the creature struck again, Sam back peddled in an attempt to get out of the way, stumbling as he did so over a loose cobble stone. His arms spun wildly a he tried to keep himself from falling, but it was no use and he felt himself fall backwards. The woman's arm reached out to help him, her hand catching Sam's, and the result was swift and painful. Sam tried desperately to block the images, his mind being given the woman's view of the creature's cruel and deadly attack on her husband. He fought to regain himself, words falling from his mouth, words taught to him a long time ago but never since used.

"The lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me besides still waters. He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake."

The images grew stronger and stronger though and Sam could feel himself losing the battle to keep them at bay. With a final thought, hoping that he had done enough to at least save the woman, Sam allowed the images to take control and let himself fall.

**A.N. . . . . As always thank you so very much for reading, I hope that you enjoyed, Peanut x**


	5. Chapter 5

**A Simple Salt A Burn.**

**Summary. . . . . . "A simple salt and burn." Joshua had said, but when have things ever been simple for the Winchester's? The boy's first hunt since Gordon's death and Sam's latest ability, takes an unexpected turn as they hunt something they have never hunted before and Sam's ability turns out to be not as controllable as they had thought. Sequel to What Comes Around Goes Around.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . As always ALL mistakes are my own. The Winchesters? They're just on loan! **

**A.N. . . . . . To my good friend and sound off buddy, Darksupernatural, I hope I did you justice with what you asked for? To my other sound off buddy, sammygirl1963, thanks for the advice and encouragement.**

**Now on to the chapter, enjoy and I'll catch you later.**

Dean had gone running off in the direction of the man's screams, a small subconscious part of him wondering if it was the wrong thing to have done. He stopped up short of the gate that led to the wooded area and glanced nervously back towards where Sam had run off to. At seeing his brother's lanky figure bobbing up and down as he ran after the woman, Dean's apprehension at leaving his sibling lessened and he continued on through the gate.

The pathway beyond split off into four different directions, at having very little light to go by Dean crouched down and ran his hand across the ground hoping to pick up a trail, pleased to find that out here the paths here had reverted back to their natural dirt rather then the gravel in the gardens. The lack of rain though had turned the ground into a solid compact mass leaving tracking almost impossible to do. He would just have to take a chance, pick a lane, go with it and hope it was the right one.

Knowing that the screams had originally come from his left and that they had sounded close, Dean chose the twisting path that ran almost parallel with the wall on that side and slowly inched his way forward. As the trees thickened and he had to stop more and more to step over fallen trunks, Dean began to think that he had chosen the wrong way and thoughts entered his head of turning back. Those thoughts increasing as he heard the woman scream once again. As he turned around to head back something caught his eye, something was moving slightly in the breeze. Hoping that Sam was okay, that he had things covered with the woman, Dean turned back to investigate what he had seen, tripping over the body of the guy who had mocked them in the reception area earlier that day.

Dean's burgers rolled alarmingly in his stomach, threatening to show themselves once again as he took in the sight that befell him once he had regained his footing. For once that night he was thankful for the limited light, knowing that if it had been any lighter he would have lost the battle with his dinner. Vicious looking gouges could be seen covering the guy's chest and stomach, his life blood spreading all around him seeping slowly into the arid earth. In some places Dean could see the white of bone and the organs that had once been so vital. He didn't bother checking for a pulse, the guy's dead eyes caught forever in a startled pose, told him all he needed to know. The attack had been swift, merciless and deadly.

Dean turned away, a sudden need to make sure Sam was okay overwhelming him. He fought and stumbled recklessly through the denser part of the wood, taking the quicker straight route back rather then the twisting trail he had previously followed. As he rushed back through the gate he stopped once again, listening this time for any signs as to which way Sam had gone. Towards the house Dean could see lights on at windows that were previously dark, could see the shapes and hear the voices of other guests and staff venturing outside alerted by the cries of terror they had heard. Dean tried to block them out and attempted instead to listen for Sam.

Eventually, he faintly heard a sound to his left past the fountain and off towards the far wall. It wasn't the sound he desperately needed to hear, but he had no doubt it would help him find his brother. Dean could hear very faint sounds of a woman crying. Rushing over he started to check down each row of shrubs, trees and flowers, hoping each row that this would be the one Sam was down. Eventually he came across two rows of evergreens and Dean's search came to an abrupt halt. Sam lay shaking violently, as though in some kind of a seizure, on the ground at the other end of the row. The woman kneeling beside him, her hand grasped in his.

Dean sprinted down the path sliding to a halt next to his brother, not caring that the gravel tore at his skin through the well worn jeans he had on. Dean recognizing the signs roughly pulled the woman's hand from Sam's, pushing her harshly away. The shaking slowed down noticeably in its intensity, but Sam's eyes made no move to open, remaining instead firmly clamped shut, pain lines creasing their edges, pain lines that could also be seen running across his forehead, a forehead that shone with sweat. Dean could only watch as Sam's body instinctively curled up on itself, something that a younger Sam would always do if he felt ill, or in pain, or more often scared.

Tears formed in Dean's eyes as he sat back on his haunches, he hesitantly reached out a shaking hand to touch Sam but doubt crossed his mind and he quickly retracted it. What if he hurt Sam? What if his touch started the empathic vision once more? Instead he sat there not knowing what to do, slowly shutting down, his face a mask of guilt, and worry, and concern, and fear. He tried to speak, tried to call Sam's name but the words just wouldn't form.

It took the sight of his brother's blood to spur him back into action, a growing patch of it spreading through Sam's shirt on his left shoulder. Dean chided himself sternly, Sam was hurt, Sam was in pain, now was definitely not the time for him to lose it. He reached out again, his hand still shaky, his mind still unsure that he was doing the right thing, and grasped Sam's arm gently shaking it. He hadn't expected an answer and wasn't surprised when he didn't receive one.

He moved closer and with great care he started to slowly unfurl his brother's frame and lower him gently onto his back. Stroking softly on Sam's cheek, Dean spoke his brother's name hoping for an answer, yet knowing from past experience how unlikely that would be; Sam would probably be out of it for hours. Dean, instead turned his concentration onto Sam's damaged shoulder. Ripping the shirt he wore apart at the sight of the wound, he began to gently probe the area, trying to assess the damage and the cause. He turned for the first time to the scared and confused woman backed up against the wall.

"What did you see? What the hell happened? What caused this?"

At seeing the woman's glassy eyed stare and her trembling body, Dean knew that he wouldn't be getting any answers from her and looked back at the wound on Sam's shoulder, thankful to see that it seemed to have stopped bleeding. Dean turned his head as he heard footsteps behind him, some of the other patrons and staff had finally found them, he started to ask for some help when he suddenly froze and turned back to Sam. Not only had the bleeding stopped but so had the shaking. Dean's hand flew to his brother's neck desperate to be wrong for once in his assumption. He wasn't. There was no steady thump, no fast beat, not even a slow pace, nothing.

"I need some help here!" Dean desperately shouted his own heartbeat quickening as he tilted Sam's head back and cleared his airway, breathing into Sam when he found it clear. "Don't you do this to me again, Sammy. C'mon brother, breathe." He moved to Sam's chest to start the compressions. "Damn it Sam, don't you dare do this. Don't you dare die on me." Dean moved back to Sam's mouth and tried again to get some much needed air into his brother. He felt someone kneel beside him and start the compressions, staying where he was he waited for the five beats to pass before he breathed again, another five beats and again, and again. His frustration mounting Dean yelled out an order. "Don't you leave me alone! Please Sammy."

Sam took in a halting breath and then slowly another one, Dean releasing the one he hadn't realized he was holding. His hands moved back to his brother's neck, relief flooding over him as he found a pulse there. He dropped his head as the tears he had been holding back began to fall freely, the fear of what had just happened bringing back memories Dean had hidden deep inside. He jumped as someone touched his arm.

"I'm sorry son; I didn't mean to startle you. My name is Bernard, Bernard Reyes. I'm a doctor; I think we need to get your, brother is it?" At Dean's nod, Bernard continued. "I think we should get your brother to a hospital. Get him checked out; find out what caused him to stop breathing."

"No! No hospital!"

"But son, he stopped breathing, we need to find out why. Also we need to get his shoulder checked out."

"No hospitals! Sam is petrified by them." Dean lied. "He doesn't like blood either; it probably sent him into shock." At seeing the doctor's doubtful gaze, Dean added yet more lies. "Listen there was an accident, I wasn't there. Sam was about eight. He, our Mom and Dad were in a crash, lots of blood. Everyone was alive when they reached the hospital, Sam passed out and when he woke our parents were gone. Believe me; a hospital will do more harm than good. If there's somewhere I can take him, I can patch him up. It's what we do."

The doctor reluctantly agreed. "Okay, I can't force you, but I would like to give him a thorough checking over. And if he doesn't improve, he goes in, okay?"

Dean nodded. Looking up he could see the now bigger crowd of onlookers, the guest houses night manager among them. Getting up Dean moved towards him and guiding him off to the side, so as not to upset the distraught woman or the other guests anymore, he spoke quietly to him.

"You need to call the police. You have another body."

**A.N. . . . . . Well? How was it? Hope it was okay? As always thank you so much for reading, next chapter up soon, Peanut x**


	6. Chapter 6

**A Simple Salt And Burn.**

**Summary. . . . . . "A simple salt and burn" Joshua had stated, but when had things ever been simple for the Winchester's? The brother's first hunt since Gordon's death and Sam's latest ability, takes an unexpected turn as they hunt something that they have never hunted before, and Sam's ability isn't as controllable as they had thought. Sequel to What Goes Around Comes Around.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . . Mistakes are mine; the Winchester's unfortunately are not.**

**A.N. . . . . I just wanted to send a quick shout out here to every one who has reviewed for my other fic Broken Promises, I'm having a few problems laptop wise and with the internet that has prevented me so far from replying to you all. I promise to do so as soon as possible though, as always I appreciate the time and thought you take in sending them. Happy reading, Peanut x**

Dean had rushed back to Sam's side as soon as he had finished talking to the night manager, dropping back to his knees he had hoped that by some miracle Sam would be awake, but his brother's eyes remained firmly closed. He looked up at the concerned face of the doctor, wanting the man to give him some good news, some hope, but knowing that none would be forthcoming just yet.

"If you insist on no hospitals, we need to get him inside. I need to check him out, see what damage has been done." The older man said, noticing Dean's worries starting to get the better of him once again.

Dean stared at the doctor almost in a daze, before the words he had spoken began to sink in. "Yeah. . . . Right. . . . The manager said that there's a room we can use behind reception." Dean maneuvered Sam up so that his brother's head rested against his shoulder, placing Sam's good arm around his neck, he placed his own arm securely around Sam's back. As Dean moved his other arm to lift Sam at the knees, the doctor moved to stop him.

"Let me help you lift him."

Dean's look was all the answer the doctor needed to know he should back off. His arm placed under Sam's knees, Dean lifted his awkwardly tall, deceptively heavy, baby brother up and started the long trek back to the house.

The older Winchester, was sweating profusely by the time they finally reached what was obviously a night staff sleeping area. Placing his brother on one of the two single beds, he stole a quick glance around. The small windowless room, apart from the two beds, contained only a small dresser. Behind the door they had entered stood another door that led to a washroom that consisted of a toilet and a basin. After the opulence of upstairs, the room seemed stark and sparse by contrast, but it would serve there purposes. Dean was startled out of his perusing as the doctor's voice spoke up.

"I need to get my bag from my car, but I'm not sure I'll have everything we'll need. . . . . "

"We'll have it! Give me your keys; I'll get your bag at the same time I get ours." The doctor handed over his keys without any hesitation, wondering though, just what the two boy's story really was. "Watch over my brother, watch over Sam!" Dean ordered, as he bolted from the room.

The doctor watched him go, before turning his attention back to the young man on the bed. Moving aside the torn pieces of the shirt Dean had ripped earlier, he tried to assess the damage and hazard a guess as to what caused it.

Located in the fleshy tissue beneath where the shoulder met his collarbone, it appeared to be roughly two inches long and straight edged, little bits of rusty metal flaked around the sides. Bernard attempted to soak up, with his handkerchief, the blood that had begun to accumulate once more with every beat of Sam's restarted heart. Finding the small square of cloth insufficient he stood and moved to the small washroom, returning soon after with the three towels he found in there.

Placing one on the wound, he pressed down heavily, sighing to himself when the action earned him nothing, not even a flinch, from Sam. Removing the towel and noting the bleeding had slowed significantly, he began to gently pry the edges of the wound apart, trying to figure out how deep it was, his eyes widening in curiosity. He jumped slightly as the door crashed open behind him and the older brother bundled his way inside, his doctor's bag in one hand, a huge duffle in the other. At seeing the look on the doctor's face and mistaking it for concern, Dean turned white.

"What's happened? What is it? Sammy!"

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you, Sam's alright. Well as alright as you can be with a hole in you and no hospital, I'm just curious about something. I need you to help me lift your brother up if you wouldn't mind?" The doctor trailed off, realizing he didn't know the older brother's name.

"Dean, My name is Dean. Why?"

"Why what . . . . . Oh! Why do I want to lift him? I want to take a look at his back."

Knowing it would be easier to help and find out why rather than ask more questions, Dean moved over to help. Both men pushed a still unresponsive Sam into an upright position before the doctor, taking a pair of scissors from his bag, cut Sam's shirts away, his suspicions confirmed as the material fell away to the sides revealing a small trace of blood trickling down Sam's back from an almost invisible exit wound.

"Shit Sammy!" Dean exclaimed when he saw what the doctor was looking for. "I didn't know it was so deep."

"Dean you need to reconsider. Sam needs a hospital; he could even need surgery. . . . . ."

"No! We patch him up here; believe me I've stitched worse."

The doctor having seen old scars on Sam's chest believed Dean, but the doctor in him still had to try again. "But I don't have the supplies."

"As I said Doc, we do. What do you need?"

Doc's eyes widened as he saw Dean delve into his duffle. Bandages, gauze, suture kits, I.V's, gloves, antiseptic, antibiotics, hypodermic needles, even a blood pressure cuff were retrieved and placed on the other bed.

"The only thing we don't keep on stock is blood, but we're the same type, so if you need it, I'll give it."

Knowing he had lost the battle to take Sam to a hospital, Doc went into the small washroom to scrub up, insisting that Dean do the same.

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Two hours and a pint of Dean's blood later, Sam was stitched up, cleaned up, bandaged up, and still unconscious. Dean and the doctor had moved him onto the cleaner bed and settled him beneath the covers. Dean had removed the blood stained top sheet from the other bed and feeling the effects of everything that had happened, sat down wearily onto it.

"Well, how's he doing?" He asked the doctor, after the older man had removed the ear pieces of his stethoscope.

"Better than I expected, given the rudimentary surgery we just performed. He must be one hell of a fighter. His heartbeat is fine, but his temperature is a little high. Although it could be nothing, it could be the start of an infection given the rust I found in the wound, we'll just have to wait and see. It's his blood pressure and the fact that he hasn't woken yet that have me more worried though. His pressure is too low, when he does wake you'll need to keep him calm and relaxed for the next few days until it gets back to normal, if you don't manage to do this, and given that he has already stopped breathing once, he could stop again. As for the unconsciousness, I have no idea why he hasn't woken. There are no signs of head trauma, so I'll have to hazard a guess that it's just his body's way of mending itself. All we can do is wait."

The minutes turned into hours, the hours into a day and Dean waited, sometimes dozing, sometimes picking at the food the hotel provided him, sometimes answering questions to the police that he didn't know the answer to, sometimes talking to the doctor, but most of the time watching the rise and fall of Sam's chest. Sometime during the day the hotel owner had arranged for a small TV to be brought into the room, the picture wasn't the best, but at least it kept Dean from chewing his nails.

He was watching the news report on the latest grizzly find at the guest house when Sam finally stirred on the other bed. Switching the TV off, he made his way quickly across to his younger brother's side, softly calling his name.

"Sammy, Sam, that's it open your eyes for me."

Sam's eyes fluttered beneath the lids but still remained closed. The pain lines that had disappeared with unconsciousness, returning. Dean tapped his brother's face, still softly crooning those same words, relieved when this time he finally got the response he was looking for, as Sam opened his eyes. Two dazed and glassy hazel orbs scanned his surroundings before finally settling on Dean's beaming face.

Sam fought through waves of pain in his fight back to consciousness, pain that intensified when he eventually found the strength to open his eyes. Looking around he didn't recognize where he was, saw nothing that was even familiar, his breathing hitched slightly as agitation began to set in, until he felt someone beside him. Moving his eyes around he focused on Dean's face.

"D. . . . De. . . Dean?"

"Hey Sammy, you feeling okay? Any pain?"

"Head hurts. Chest and shoulder too, thirsty." Sam rasped out.

Dean grabbed the water bottle of the other bed, placing a straw into it before helping Sam to raise his head, and brought it up to his brother's lips, where he proceeded to drink greedily from it. "Hey, hey, slow down, otherwise you'll make yourself sick."

Sam relented and flopped his head back down onto the pillow, tiredness crashing down over him. "Dean? What happened?"

Dean looked up surprised at Sam's question. "I was kinda hoping that you could tell me." At seeing Sam's confusion, he added. "We heard screams, separated and when I got back to you, you were having some kind of seizure and were bleeding. We think you were stabbed, don't you remember?"

Sam's eyes stared off, unfocused, as he tried to fit the pieces of the puzzle back together in his mind. Certain parts remained blurry, but some were coming back. "There was a woman. I ran after her, she ran into a dead end and I tried to convince her I wasn't going to hurt her. She screamed and I stumbled into her, then everything went black."

"Sam, are you lying to me? Holding back on me?"

"What! No!" Sam cried out, confused as to why Dean asked him that.

"Sam!" Dean ground out a warning. "You stopped breathing, dude. You freakin stopped breathing. So tell me the truth, did you have one of your empathy visions or whatever the hell else they are, like you did back at the diner and you're not telling me."

Sam lay there in shock; he'd stopped breathing, he'd stopped breathing. He wanted to deny to Dean that he hadn't had a vision, but something triggered in his mind, memories that he knew were not his own, pain and anguish and agony and grief and death, all seen through eyes that were not his. He started to hyperventilate as the images assaulted him once again.

Dean noted the struggle that Sam was having trying to deal with the knowledge of what he had just said. He watched as recognition flittered across Sam's face, watched as Sam remembered what had happened. Remembering the doctor's words, Dean tried desperately to get Sam to focus on him, to calm down, but it was hopeless. As Sam's eyes widened in horror, Dean could only watch.

Sam's grip tightened on Dean's arm as he fought against passing out, he tried in vain to force words out through his mouth, words he knew Dean needed to hear, words that would tell his brother just what they were up against, but they refused to come, refused to force their way past a throat that was desperately trying to drag in air. His eyes rolled back into his head as the darkness took him once again.

Dean sat there after Sam had fallen unconscious once more, he checked his brother's pulse, relieved to at least find one there, before he sat on the floor his back resting against the other bed. He knew that Sam had been trying to tell him something, knew that it was something important, and knew that it was something about his attacker. He felt helpless and alone and unsure of what to do. Taking out his phone he dialed Bobby's number, with Sam like this they could do with some help.

Surprise and worry battled each other when his call, to both Bobby's house and cell phone, went unanswered.

**A.N. . . . . . . Thank you all for reading, next chapter up next weekend, catch you later, Peanut x**


	7. Chapter 7

**A Simple Salt And Burn.**

**Summary. . . . . . "A simple salt and burn" Joshua had stated, but when had things ever been simple for the Winchester's? The brother's first hunt since Gordon's death and Sam's latest ability, takes an unexpected turn as they hunt something that they have never hunted before, and Sam's ability isn't as controllable as they had thought. Sequel to What Goes Around Comes Around.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . . Mistakes are mine; the Winchester's unfortunately are not.**

**A.N. . . . . . To everyone who reviewed last chapter, I'm so sorry that I haven't got around to replying to you all yet, I promise that I will do. So here it is, chapter 7 of Simple Salt. Hope you enjoy, Peanut x**

Dean had continued throughout the rest of night to try and get in touch with Bobby, each time still receiving no answer. Part of him wanted to load Sam into the Impala and go in search of the older hunter, but he knew that his brother was no where near up to the trip, plus he didn't need the added worry of a missing Bobby bringing Sam's blood pressure back down. He glanced quickly Sam's way to make sure he was still sleeping before he slipped quickly out the door and into the hallway, someone needed to be out there searching for Bobby and if they couldn't do it, he knew someone who could. Joshua answered his phone on the second ring.

"Dean? Are you okay?

"Yeah, Josh, fine. Listen, have you heard from Bobby? I keep ringing but nobody's answering."

"Can't say that I have tried calling, but it doesn't seem like him not to answer. Do you two want to check it out; I can always finish off that hunt when I've finished here?"

"No! No, its okay, we'll finish off here. I'm just worried."

"Go look for him then, the hunt can wait if you're that worried."

"Nah, he'll call soon."

"Dean, what's going on? Why don't you want to leave?"

"Nothing. . . . . "

"Dean!"

"The simple salt and burn, as you put it, the one you sent us on, is turning out to be anything but simple."

"Are you hurt?"

"Me? No!"

"Sam?" When he received no answer it was all the confirmation that Joshua needed. "How bad?"

"Bad enough."

"How bad, Dean?"

"Stab wound front to back, blood transfusion, and god knows how many stitches, dangerously low blood pressure."

"Shit! How the hell did it get the drop on Sam?"

"Well that's the other thing that has gone wrong on this fucked up hunt. That freaky shit, Sam used on Gordon, that power we thought he could control, turns out its not so controllable after all."

"Shit!" Joshua repeated. "You want me to come down there? You need any help?"

"No. . . . .Yes, but I need to know that Bobby is okay first. Find him Josh; we'll be okay for now."

"Are you sure?"

Dean looked through the crack in the door, checking on Sam once more. Noting that he still slept soundly he replied. "No. This is freakin' scaring the crap out of me. Sam's freaky hoodoo, it. . . . . "

"Dean, you'll be fine. I'm gonna finish up here then go look for Bobby. We'll get there as soon as we can, okay?"

"Yeah, Josh thanks. I'll see you soon."

Dean hung up and placed his phone back into his pocket. Turning back around he walked back into the room to find Sam staring at him, a mixture of hurt and anger written all over his face.

"I scare you? My uncontrollable freaky shit? I'm a freak to you?" Sam ground out.

"I never said that, Sam. Don't twist my words."

Sam turned his head away, not wanting Dean to see the tears that were forming. "You said you were scared, Dean, of my freaky hoodoo."

"Yeah Sam, I am! I scared of this. . . . . This, whatever it is, that is happening to you. But not of you, never of you." Dean sighed deeply before sitting down on the edge of Sam's bed. "You're my brother Sam, I hate seeing you hurt, and these things, these empathy visions, they're hurting you and they're making you sloppy." Dean stopped Sam before he could respond. "Tell me I'm lying Sam. Tell me that you didn't have one of those things before whatever it was stabbed you. Tell me that wasn't the reason whatever it was got the drop on you."

Dean could almost see Sam's mind working away, trying to find a way to answer the question without telling the whole truth. He could also see Sam starting to work himself up again whilst doing so.

"Sam, stop! Stop trying to think of a way to lie to me. Stop working yourself up, just tell me the truth."

"Tell you what Dean? That I'm a liability to you in this hunt? That I can't be trusted to watch your back? You already think that otherwise you wouldn't have called Bobby and Joshua, so why do you need me to tell you? Does it make you feel better, feel bigger every time little Sammy can't hack it, every time little Sammy needs bailing out yet again. . . . ." Sam tried to move, jostling his shoulder and sending waves of pain crashing through him.

Dean's anger bubbled with Sam's words, he had never felt that way, never would feel that way. Ignoring the fact that Sam had turned pale and was struggling to breath, he turned his anger his brother's way.

"Fuck you Sam! When, in all these years, have I every acted the way you just mentioned? When have I ever treated you like the lesser person? You're just pissed off because you know I'm right, because you can't be honest with me for once. . . . . ."

Dean's rant was cut short abruptly as Sam's hand gripped his leg tightly and painfully. Looking down he was shocked to see how pale Sam had become, how rigid his brother was as he fought to take in every breath into his starved lungs. He grasped Sam's face in both hands and forced the younger man to concentrate on him.

"C'mon Sam, breathe for me, calm down, you can do this. C'mon, that's it, you're doing great."

Sam's body gradually began to respond to Dean's gentle coaxing, his muscles relaxing allowing the air to enter more easily. Once he knew that Sam was okay, Dean rose to get some more painkillers and another bottle of water, helping Sam to swallow the pills and drink half the bottle, before easing him back down onto the bed.

"Are you okay?" He finally asked.

"Yeah, I just moved wrong." Sam answered back.

"Do you feel dizzy, faint, nauseous?"

"Nah, I'm good." Wanting to forget what had just past between them, Sam decided to change the subject. "Dean we need to talk about what's going on here."

"Not now Sam."

"Why? We need to figure out a way to stop this re. . . . "

Dean cut Sam off again. "Not now Sam! We'll wait for back up."

Sam looked at Dean once again with a feeling of hurt. "We can't wait Dean, this thing will kill again. We need to hunt this thing down."

"Sam, stop! You could've died, you're not even fifty percent fit. We are going to wait for Josh and Bobby."

"I'm fine, Dean." Sam ignored Dean's huff of indignation and carried on. "We can't afford to wait."

"Yes, we can."

"No, Dean we can't. It's a Red Cap. We can't wait; it will kill again, and soon."

"Sam, Red Caps aren't real. They're fictional characters from Harry Potter books."

"What? How would you know?"

"I read. . . . sometimes. . . . occasionally."

"Then you should know that Red Caps are very much real, they .usually haunt the borders of Scotland and England, but this wouldn't be the first time that spirits have strayed away from home."

"Maybe you didn't see it clearly." Dean gingerly ventured out. "Maybe the striking of the vision made you see things that weren't really there."

Sam's mouth dropped open, the words his head wanted to him to respond with seemingly stuck inside. He closed and opened it a few times before he could push the words free. "You really think that?" You really think that I was delusional? That I'm making this up?"

"I don't know what to think Sam. You tell me we're hunting a fictional British creature. . . . ."

"It's not fictional, Dean."

"Sam, there's no mention of them in Dad's journal. Nothing, and god knows how many times I've read that."

"Oh and Dad's journal is the Holy Bible of all things supernatural now? You know what forget it." Sam pushed himself up to a sitting position on the bed and waited for the wave of vertigo to pass before rising to his feet.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked, some anger abating as his big brother worry mode set in.

"I'm going back to our room to research, you don't have to believe me, but I know what I saw. Stay here and wait for the others, I really don't want to be around you right now." With that he staggered from the room.

"Fuck!" Dean shouted before turning and punching the wall. "That went well." He thought before dropping back onto the bed, his mind pondering all his brother had said. Could Sam's mind have been playing tricks on him? Could the vision have distorted his thinking? Or was Sam telling the truth? And had Dean just alienated his brother? He dreaded the outcome if that was the case; Sam would never open up to him again.

He needed to find out exactly what had happened last night, and if he couldn't find that out from Sam, that left only one other person he could ask. Dean rushed from the room, briefly wondering if he should go and check on Sam, choosing instead to stay away until he had some answers. Making his way down to the reception he inquired as to who the woman was. Receiving a name and phone number, he went back to the small room to start his search for those answers.

**A.N. . . . . . . . How was it? Thanks for reading, Peanut x**


	8. Chapter 8

**A Simple Salt And Burn.**

**Summary. . . . . . "A simple salt and burn" Joshua had stated, but when had things ever been simple for the Winchester's? The brother's first hunt since Gordon's death and Sam's latest ability, takes an unexpected turn as they hunt something that they have never hunted before, and Sam's ability isn't as controllable as they had thought. Sequel to What Goes Around Comes Around.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . . Mistakes are mine; the Winchester's unfortunately are not.**

**A.N. . . . . . . I'm so sorry about the long wait for an update, real life just caught up and I just couldn't get motivated to start writing. A big thanks as always for reading, and an extra special thanks to Darksupernatural for yet again giving me a sly kick up the arse to get me going. Happy reading, Peanut x**

Sam had stumbled his way back to their original room, stopping numerous times along the way to catch his breath, ignoring once again the curious and at times dirty looks he received from the other patrons. He fumbled in his wallet for his key card, when he finally reached his destination, plucking it out he pushed it into the slot and waited for the light to change color. When it didn't he tried again, and again, and again, each time getting more and more harder to find the slot, as his frustration mounted both at his inability to open the door, and at the harsh words Dean had spoken.

He fought desperately to clear his eyes as the tears threatened to fall, fought desperately to try and calm himself down, but Dean's words had cut deep and all Sam wanted to do know was just hide away from them, if only he could get through this blasted door. A passing maid seeing his troubles stepped forward to see if she could help, Sam accepting readily, making sure though not to touch her as he passed the card across. She quickly unlocked the door before handing the card back and heading off. Sam gratefully entered the room, leaning his back against the door as it started to close, as his limited strength finally deserted him. As the door swung further back he followed its progress, bending his knees as he did so and sliding to the floor.

The tears that had been threatening fell unabated then. How could Dean doubt him? How could his own brother very nearly call him a liar? How was he ever supposed to trust going to Dean again? After everything that they had been through, fought against all these years, how could Dean not believe this one? A part of Sam knew he was being irrational, but that little part was being smothered by Sam's hurt and anger and betrayal he felt.

He knew that Dean worried about him, worried that he had been hurt yet again so soon after the whole debacle with Gordon, but injuries were part and parcel of the job, Sam knew that and he thought Dean did too. Injuries also healed, but Sam didn't think, at the moment, he would ever get over what Dean had said.

He forced himself to his feet once more and stumbled over to his bed, his body protesting the movement, his head and injured shoulder throbbing mercilessly, his eyes beginning to droop. He seriously just wanted to just lay his body down, cover himself up and sleep for a month, yet he knew that he didn't have the time. He had noticed the latest batch of customers wanting to check into the guest house, all wanting to see the macabre sights, and Sam knew what that meant, yet more meals for the Red Cap.

Quickly making himself the strongest cup of coffee he could stand, Sam booted up his laptop and got to work. The Red Cap had to be linked to something to do with the house and Sam needed to find out what, and also a way to kill it for good. Three hours, numerous pots of coffee and a really bad headache later, and Sam had the answers to the latter and a good idea to the former. Now alls he had to do was wait for Dean to come back and hope that this time his brother would hear him out.

Dean hadn't taken long to find out from the very friendly and extremely attractive receptionist, that the woman he was looking for had checked out almost immediately after her husband's death, no longer able, or willing, to stay in a place that held so many bad memories. A lot of flirting and the promise of a rendezvous later, and Dean had the woman's name and address, given time he thought and he would have had both house and cell numbers too, and a rough idea of just what the couple had eaten whilst staying here.

But Jean had been called back to work as the afternoon rush of new guests started and yet another bunch of CSI Ghost Whisperers had arrived all wanting rooms and directions to the death sights. Dean shook his head as he walked off, it never failed to amaze him how stupid people could be at times, or how morbid their fascination.

He looked quickly at his watch, wondering yet again whether he should go and check up on Sam; let his brother know where he was going, what he was up to. He knew though that going to question the woman would be seen as yet another slight to Sam's eyes. Figuring also that as it was one o clock; Sam would have taken his meds and probably be off in cloud cuckoo land, he chose yet again to leave his brother be. Leaving the guest house, dean jumped into the Impala to drive the two and a half, or so, hours to where the woman lived.

The house wasn't that hard to find, once he had reached the suburb, a couple of local TV news crews still hung around, waiting to catch a glimpse or even get an interview with the latest grieving widow. Pulling the Impala to the side of the road, Dean got out. Glancing around he whistled softly when he thought about the sheer amount of money some of the houses must have cost, and at the splendor, not to mention the expensive foreign cars that seemed to be breeding in every driveway.

Making his way to the right house, he walked up the drive, climbed the few steps to the porch and knocked on the door, unprepared for it to be almost immediately flung open and an angry grey haired older man to start verbally abusing him.

"Get the hell off our property! We've already told you we have no comment, why can't you just leave us in peace to grieve?"

Shocked into silence it took Dean a few minutes to realize he was being mistaken for a reporter and to find his voice, that being said he still didn't appreciate the mans tone, so he answered rudely back. "I need to talk to Claire Nolan, I can see that you are not her, so can you please go and get her for me?"

"She's not here!" Was all the reply he got in return, as the door began to close in his face.

Shoving his foot in the way and pushing it back open, Dean's anger began to increase and he spat back. "Listen, I don't know who you are, the butler or what? But I don't need the attitude. I was there the other night; my brother saved Mrs. Nolan's life, getting hurt in the process. Now I would really appreciate it if you could tell her I'm here, as I really, really need to talk to her."

A soft voice spoke from behind the door spoke up. "It's okay Dad, you can let him in."

Still not looking too happy about it, the older guy opened the door further and stepped to the side to let Dean in. Dean caught his first glimpse of Mrs. Nolan since he had rushed of with Sam and the doctor the other night, dressed in sweats and an oversized shirt, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail, her face completely void of make up, and her eyes red rimmed and puffy, she looked nothing like the polished lady she was then. It was as Dean looked at her face, that a hint of recognition crossed his own features, she was the woman from the reception the day Sam and him had checked in, part of the obnoxious couple.

"I can see from your eyes that you remember who I am now. Are you still happy that your brother saved me?" At seeing Dean struggle for a response, she gestured him forward and into the family room before talking once more. "I'm sorry for how we acted; I guess you could say we've paid for it now. I'm also sorry that your brother got hurt, I hope that he is okay?"

"He's getting better. It was touch and go for a while, the wound was a bad one, but he's a fighter."

"Good, I'm glad. I'm curious though to know why you came here."

"I need to know what happened." Dean replied, not beating around the bush in his need to find answers.

"Didn't your brother, Sam I think I remember you calling him, didn't he tell you?"

"Yes, but I need to hear it from you too."

Claire gave Dean a sad look before she answered. "You didn't believe him, did you? Why should I trust you enough to tell you if you refuse to believe your own kin?"

Dean sighed deeply before answering honestly. "No, I didn't believe him, and now he won't talk to me. I really need to make this right. Please just tell me what you saw."

"The police didn't believe me, they thought I was delusional with grief, I think they were even laughing at me behind my back. Why will you be any different? I'm sorry but I can't tell you."

"Please, I really need you help," As Claire stood as though to dismiss him, Dean decided to change tact. "Claire, please? If I know my brother at all, he will try and stop this thing on his own. He's injured, he's sick and I'm afraid that this time he might not make it. Please tell me what you saw, please." As the minutes ticked by and there was still no sign of a reply, Dean headed for the door, stopping short of it as Claire finally spoke up.

"He looked just like an old man. Craig and I had just gone for a walk, we knew about the other deaths, but you always think it will never happen to you, right? I think we both had this little bit of morbid curiosity too. We'd only been in the woods fifteen minutes we he first showed up in the distance. As I said at first he looked like an old man, a really small one, but he was so fast. One minute he was in the distance, the next he had hold of Craig and his. . . . . . his. . . . . . That's when I knew he wasn't a person."

"How? How did you know?"

"It had claws where its fingers should have been, big metal like claws. Craig told me to run, to go and get help, so I did. I kept hearing Craig's screams, he suffered so much. I kept running though, because that's what he told me to do. I remember after a while hearing something following me. I thought it was that. . . . that thing, but it was Sam. I thought I was safe, but the next thing I know it was back. It struck out at Sam with a big spear like thing and he stumbled back into me. He started convulsing, but he kept whispering words and the thing left. I don't remember much afterwards. What was it?"

"I'm not sure. Do you remember anything else about the thing? Anything else at all? Or even what Sam was saying?"

"I couldn't make out Sam's words. I couldn't make out anything over the sound of my own heart beating, but they seemed to scare it, to make the thing go away. It seemed to be wearing metal boots, and its clothes looked old, and I know it sounds weird, but I'm sure it's eyes glowed red. That's all though, I hope that I have helped."

Dean didn't know what to say in response to that; she could have been describing any number of supernatural beasts. He started for the door yet again, his hand resting on the handle ready to turn when Claire spoke up once more.

"Oh! It wore a hat, like one of those old fashioned sleeping caps, and it seemed wet, like it had been dipped into something."

Dean's heart sank. Sam was right. Sam had told the truth and Dean hadn't believed him, he'd chosen instead to basically tear his younger sibling's heart out and stomp all over it. He needed to get back, he needed to make things right. He glanced at his watch, panicking slightly when he saw what time it was and how long he had been here. He wouldn't be back before dark now, all he could do, all he could hope for was that Sam wouldn't be stupid enough to go after it alone.

**A.N. . . . . . I hope it was okay? It's leading up to the more action chapters to come, I promise. Catch you later, Peanut x**


	9. Chapter 9

**A Simple Salt And Burn.**

**Summary. . . . . . "A simple salt and burn" Joshua had stated, but when had things ever been simple for the Winchester's? The brother's first hunt since Gordon's death and Sam's latest ability, takes an unexpected turn as they hunt something that they have never hunted before, and Sam's ability isn't as controllable as they had thought. Sequel to What Goes Around Comes Around.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . . Mistakes are mine; the Winchester's unfortunately are not.**

**A.N. . . . . . I kinda promised a quick update to a few readers so here it is! As always thank you so much for taking time out to read, Peanut x**

Dean tried ringing Sam's cell phone as he drove the long roads back towards the guest house, slightly surprised when his brother ignored the calls. He tried to push aside the hurt he felt, after all he had dealt the first blow so to speak, but he couldn't quite manage to get it to disappear altogether. Maybe he deserved to be feeling like this, he thought quietly to himself, yet at the same time his mind was screaming at him; No, he didn't! Sam knew the rules, Sam knew that if either brother called one another then that call was answered, no matter how pissed off with each other they were.

He knew that Sam's sensitive mind would have over analyzed every word that had passed between them, he knew that Sam would have read more into those words, reading between imaginary lines, crushing his heart at little bit more each time, and feeling more and more defeated the longer he thought about it; but he also knew that Sam would answer the phone if he could. As his foot pushed harder on the gas, Dean prayed that Sam was just doped up on his meds, too deeply asleep to hear the phone, but a knowing ache in his stomach told him that was not the case.

Sam had waited hours for Dean to return to the room, pacing back and forth, doing anything to keep the exhaustion he was feeling at bay that little bit longer. His shoulder now ached with such intensity it brought tears to his eyes, and on occasion stopped him short, gasping for breath, having to grab at anything to support his lanky frame and stopping him falling head first to the floor. The whole shoulder had stiffened considerably, whilst he had been scouring the internet looking for leads, the piggy back effect of which meant that his head now pounded even more mercilessly than before.

He knew that he should take his meds, that he should try and rest whilst he waited, but the meds reminded him of when he was at Gordon's mercy, made him feel so off, so out of control of his own body, so weak, that he refused to take them. And trying to rest just brought back reminders of what he had seen when the woman's hand had grabbed him, making him rush to the bathroom and dry heave into the bowl. He also had another reason for refusing to take the meds. Dean already thought his mind was affected, that his judgment sucked, how would he feel if Sam couldn't even lift his head off the pillow? No, he had to stay strong, he had to stay awake, he had to suck it up.

Sam brought his right hand up to his shoulder, kneading at the knotted muscles he felt there, trying if only for a moment to alleviate the pain, to gain a temporary reprieve from the ache. It was not to be though; if anything the movements making the pain feel worse. He strode over to where his laptop still lay booted up, surrounded by copious amounts of his scruffily written notes. He wanted to go over everything he had found out so far, needing it to all be perfect, for it all to be correct for when he presented his findings to Dean, he didn't think he could take Dean dismissing him again, didn't think he could take Dean taking the one thing he was good at and smashing even that illusion. It reminded him too much of how his Dad had been with him.

Picking up one of the piles of notes Sam started to reread them, scrutinizing them for any mistakes, pouring over them, adding bits and pieces here and there. By the time he had finished the first pile his eyes were tired and raw, and the words he had written were beginning to jumble together and almost float up at him off the page. He needed a break, he needed to get out of the room, he needed to get away from things that reminded him of how little Dean thought of him.

Sam looked at his watch, four thirty, he still had plenty of daylight left, maybe he could go and check out the fountain, the thing he believed linked the Red Cap to its former Scottish home, and now this South Carolina guest house. He would be safe for a few hours yet, he thought to himself. He would be back before dark. Grabbing his gun armed with modified salt rounds, a bottle of water out of the fridge, and Dean's e.m.f reader, he gingerly made his way from the room; missing what would be the first of many calls to his cell, the cell he had left forgotten in the pocket of his coat.

Dean's frustration was at an all time high. Not only was his little brother being a stubborn bitch and refusing to answer his calls, the card he had picked up with the guest houses number on it had somehow fallen from his pocket, meaning he couldn't even ring them and ask to be patched through to their room, or even ask them to check that Sam was okay. To top everything off though was the fact that the traffic going back was being an even bigger bitch than Sam. As he was slowed down by yet another delay up ahead, Dean pounded the wheel in frustration, and swore to himself that he was gonna kill Sam when he got back. After, he decided, Joshua's head was gonna be next for the chopping block.

Trying Sam's cell yet again and still getting no answer, the churning in Dean's stomach worsened at the thought that Sam had gone off on his own, trying to prove something to the brother that had so quickly dismissed his thoughts, surely though Sam wasn't that stupid? Yet Dean knew Sam, knew that his words this morning would have been taken to heart, knew that Sam's bullheadedness would have wanted to prove Dean wrong, knew that Sam would rather put himself at risk than lose yet another innocent life; even if those innocents lives were stupid enough to have put themselves at risk in the first place.

Anger began to grow inside him, replacing the fear he had previously felt a little more each mile he grew closer to the guest house. He began not to care that he had been the one to upset Sam, that he had been the one who had sent Sam's emotions spiraling out of control, he didn't care that Sam was injured and obviously not thinking straight, he didn't care that more people would likely die. When he got back, he was loading them up into the Impala and getting them the hell out of Dodge.

Sam trudged heavy limbs down the back stairs of the guest house, going the long way around in an attempt to avoid the curious stares of both the other guests and the staff on his way to the gardens. Stepping out into the muggy, humid, late afternoon air, he stopped briefly to take a drink of water as a wave of dizziness washed over him. Making his way down the side of the guest house, his feet were soon crunching the gravel that heralded the pathways of the walled garden, irritation marking his features as he looked around the site to find it crowded with other guests, all wanting to catch a glimpse or where the murders had occurred, and all thwarting his attempts to go about his work.

He started to make his way anyway to the fountain, hoping that it would be clear for him to bring out the e.m.f, wincing painfully and almost passing out as he passed a well dressed couple along the way who refused to make room and barged into his damaged shoulder. Seeing too many people milling around when he finally arrived, Sam knew that he would have to wait before checking it out. Noticing a bench off to the side, he slowly made his way towards it, nausea and lightheadedness still making themselves known from the recent jolt to his shoulder.

Sitting down he went over what he had found out so far. It had taken him a while but he had finally found a report about the large amount of money the Dalton's had paid for a very rare, fully intact, undamaged 17th century fountain that had once resided in a Scottish castle. They had paid even more money to painstakingly have it shipped over in one piece, not wanting to damage it in any way shape or form. Sam's gut instinct was telling him that this was where the Red Caps bones were entombed, and that the move to a new land had disturbed the spirit with devastating effect. The more he thought about it the more it seemed likely, he just needed an e.m.f reading to make sure.

He took the reader from out of his waistband and switched it on, hoping that he would, yet knowing it was unlikely that he would get a reading from this far away. When the lights didn't move and the screech that always accompanied a supernatural presence never came he rubbed wearily at his eyes, all he could do now was wait. Stretching his long legs out before him, Sam closed his eyes against the glaringness of the sun, not realizing his mistake as the heat of the day relaxed him and within seconds he had succumbed to the sleep his body had been craving.

Dean recklessly floored the Impala down the guest houses driveway, his desperation and anger, at still not getting a response from Sam, had long since turned back to fear and concern for his brother's safety. He all but flew out of the car as he pulled it to a stop haphazardly taking up three parking places, and not even bothering to lock it as he raced for the main doors. Once in reception he barreled past guests on their way to dinner and took the stairs three at a time. Pulling out his card he rammed it into the slot and flung the door open, feeling like he had been punched in the stomach as he found the room empty.

"Sam!" He shouted out, praying that his brother was just in the bathroom. "Sammy! Answer me!" He tried again as he thrust open the door. But the light was off and the room was once again empty. He rushed back into the main room, dialing Sam's number as he went, only to almost cry in disbelief when he heard the familiar ring tone coming from Sam's jacket hung across the arm of the couch. He growled in irritation as he looked around for clues as to where Sam could be.

Picking up the top pile of notes, Dean tried hard to make out what had been written. Realization of how out of it Sam must be hit Dean hard; his brother's usually neat handwriting had been reduced to a scrawl. Words overlapped themselves in Sam's haste to get them down, very little, if any, intelligible to Dean's eyes. He sighed deeply in annoyance that he wouldn't be able to find Sam that way. The booted up laptop caught his eye and he strode purposefully across to it.

Moving the cursor around he tried to bring up the last page Sam had been on. A site to do with Red Caps came up as the screen returned from hibernation, Dean quickly reading it, hoping to gain some knowledge of what he was dealing with before he ventured out looking for his brother, only getting halfway through before a shot rang out from outside.

Sam squeezed his eyes against the spiking pain that lanced through his head. Some loud pitched noise though rang out again and the jolts of pain elevated, leaving Sam wishing that for once Dean would oil the damn doors of the car. As the screech came once again only louder, Sam willed his eyes open, ready to angrily lash out at Dean, the lids refused to open though, and the slight chill that had now settled and the hardness of the seat beneath him reminded Sam that he was nowhere near the Impala.

As the screech sounded yet again Sam, this time knowing what it was, forced his eyes open and looked down on the e.m.f that glowed eerily in his hand. Tugging the gun out of the waistband of his jeans he looked up just in time to avoid the Red Caps claws that had been aiming for his throat, feeling the stab of pain as he was unable to completely move out of the way and a fresh wound let itself be known. Sam tried to stand, tried to maneuver himself into a position where he could get a clean shot off, but the spirit was too fast and the shot went wide. Knowing that he didn't have a chance to fight it off, Sam started once again to recite the bible, only a few words leaving his mouth before the Red Cap struck again. Having no choice and without thinking, Sam grabbed the Caps arms.

Pain worse than any vision he had ever had, worse than any injury he had ever sustained, ignited within him. With every beat of his heart it felt like molten lava was being pushed through his veins. Images of death, decay, terror, destruction, blood, pain, and fear flashed through his mind like some x-rated horror movie slide show. He didn't feel himself fall to his knees; he didn't hear the running of feet, or the screams, or the gasps of surprise as the crowd formed around him and the Red Cap, unsure and unbelieving of what they were seeing; he didn't hear his own screams, or the strong voice that shouted above them reciting the only bible passage he had ever learnt.

"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. . . . ."

All's Sam could hear now were the hundreds of souls all calling out in their last vestige of life.

**A.N. . . . . . . As always I hope that you enjoyed, will catch you soon, Peanut x**


	10. Chapter 10

**A Simple Salt And Burn.**

**Summary. . . . . . "A simple salt and burn" Joshua had stated, but when had things ever been simple for the Winchester's? The brother's first hunt since Gordon's death and Sam's latest ability, takes an unexpected turn as they hunt something that they have never hunted before, and Sam's ability isn't as controllable as they had thought. Sequel to What Goes Around Comes Around.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . . Mistakes are mine; the Winchester's unfortunately are not.**

**A.N. . . . . . Sorry about the wait, work stuff! You know how it is! This is a bit of a filler before the action starts again. Enjoy, Peanut x**

Dean had known as soon as he heard the shot, that the gun the noise had come from belonged to Sam. Years of always being told, look after Sammy, years of instinctively knowing whenever Sam was hurt or in trouble, kicked in and had Dean running back out of the room and down the stairs he had just minutes before been flying up. He just knew that Sam was in trouble, and he just knew that Sam was hurting. Pushing through the throngs of people blocking the doorway, all wanting to see what was going on, Dean thrust his way outside, needing to get to Sam's side, needing to make sure he was okay.

Dean's fears, and his anger, rose as he pounded down the pathways, Sam had barely made it the through last encounter with the Red Cap, he hated the thought of how his brother would fare this time. Yet at the same time Dean found himself getting annoyed and frustrated at his sibling, he swore to himself he was going to kill Sam himself for leaving the room, for not waiting for him to get back; what the hell had he been thinking? Dean swore he would bundle the kid in cotton wool and chain him to the Impala's seats if they got out of this one. As he got nearer the crowd of gawkers and caught a brief glimpse of Sam through the mass, all Dean's anger dissipated, replaced instantly with concern; Sam didn't look good. Sam looked down right deathly.

Dean ran into the backs of the people, trying desperately to inch closer, trying desperately to reach Sam, to save Sam. Muttered curses reached his ears as the crowd reluctantly parted and gave up their vantage points, disappointed that their unobstructed views were now being blocked by this ghastly dressed commoner. Dean ignored them and continued on his quest, as he reached the front though the crowd was reluctant to part way, no matter how hard Dean pushed. A man Sam's height and twice as wide took offence to Dean shoving him and grabbed the back of his jacket, swinging him around and away from his ailing sibling.

"Who the hell do you think you are shoving people? If you wanted a better view, you should have got here sooner." He shouted at a momentarily stunned Dean.

"That's my brother, you son of a bitch! Now either move out of my way, or I swear to God I will shoot you." Dean eventually got out, taking his gun from out of his waistband, waving it in the guys face for emphasis.

The guy immediately backed down allowing Dean to get through. As he finally looked over at the other side of the fountain, Dean finally got his first proper look at his brother, and what he saw he didn't like. Sam was on his knees, his arms locked, his hands gripping a spirit exactly like the one Claire Nolan had described. Shaking uncontrollable, his shirt stuck to his body with sweat, tears streaming down a face scrunched up in pure agony, Sam cried out from the pain. Dean knew he had to act, he knew Sam's limits, and he knew his brother was nearing the end of them.

Knowing he couldn't reach him in time, he pulled out his gun again ready to shoot the beast that had a hold of Sam, ready for the commotion and the backlash the action would cause, he had only one thought, he needed to save Sam; he would deal with the police later. A sudden remembrance of something written in Sam's scrawl though stopped his actions and had him wracking his brain for the right words, failing for a moment to remember anything Pastor Jim had taught him, in the end just about remembering a passage he hoped he recited correctly.

In a strong voice, a voice that belied his own fears, Dean shouted out. "Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done. . . ."

The result was instantaneous, the Red Cap flickering in and out of focus before disappearing altogether. Cries of surprise rang out from the crowd, but Dean didn't hear them, without the Red Caps support keeping him upright, Sam had fallen heavily to the floor, the shakes, the tears and the low keening sound, allowing Dean to know that he was still alive, but at the same time worry him about the amount of damage that had been done. He rushed over to Sam's side, a sense of dejavu crashing down over him, the panic he had felt the other night coming back full force, threatening to engulf him.

Even though he could see Sam was alive, Dean's fingers moved towards Sam's pulse, needing almost hungrily to feel the beat of Sam's heart. He stopped seconds away from touching though unwilling to move those final few inches, wondering if he did so would he cause any more pain to Sam's already sensitive body. His natural urge to reassure Sam, to try and ease Sam's pain won out though, and with a shakiness that spoke of his own fears he covered the remaining distance. Sam's heart beat erratically beneath Dean's calloused fingertips, too fast for his liking. His brother's eyes roamed frantically beneath closed lids, speaking of the nightmares Sam was reliving, and that keening noise Dean had heard earlier still came from deep within his sibling; almost seeming to Dean as if Sam was screaming quietly.

Dean pulled Sam's head into his lap, tapping gently at Sam's face trying to get the younger man to wake up, but Sam's eyes refused to do anything but move rapidly, the tears still spilling freely from them. This was bad. This was very bad, the older hunter thought. He knew that he desperately needed to get Sam off the floor, and that they had to move, they had to get away from the crowds of gawkers. He knew that by now the police would be on the way, called no doubt by someone nervous after hearing the shot, but at the minute he had no idea of how to move Sam, or to where. He couldn't even think of a way to explain all this away if they were caught. Dean also knew that this time the doctor would insist on a hospital visit for Sam, something Dean knew they could ill afford to let happen.

He looked around nervously trying to figure a way out of this, trying to figure the best and quickest way to help Sam, every where he looked though all he saw was curious faces, unwanted attention and blocked escape routes. As Sam's trembles intensified and he began to curl in on himself in obvious pain, Dean couldn't help his own tears falling, at a loss, for the first time, on how to help Sam. Making up his mind he started to stroke his brother's hair, a move that had always calmed Sam as a child, and waited. They would have to take their chances with the police and the hospital.

It didn't take long before the word police reached his ears and the mutterings within the crowd increased, grumbles at being forced to move back, curses from a few that their entertainment had been taken away. A hand on his shoulder had Dean jumping, his arms instinctively latching on to Sam all the more tighter.

"Its okay son, everything's going to be okay. Help is here now."

Dean didn't know whether to laugh or cry, both at the statement that everything was gonna be okay, and at the fact that the voice that had spoken it was so familiar, so recognizable to him. "Bobby?" Dean whispered relief evident in just that one word.

"It's me son, now just hang tight whilst we move these freakin idjit's, then we can get you and Sam outta here, and get down to some explaining." Bobby gave Dean's shoulder another reassuring squeeze before he turned and barked out. "Who's in charge here?"

The manager that Dean had spoken to the other night nervously stepped forward. "I. . . I am. What was that thing?"

"I'll explain all later." Bobby gruffly answered. "Right now this is a crime scene and I need it cleared immediately. I want all these witnesses holed up somewhere until I can question them. Are these two men guests here?" Bobby asked, pointing at Dean and Sam.

"Yes."

"Okay, my partner here, is going to have to check out their room. We believe that this has been the latest in a long line of stunts these two have pulled, cashing in on any unfortunate deaths they hear about, hoping to scam the hotels. We need to check to make sure there are no cameras set up in their room, so I need one of your people to show my partner which is their room."

Dean looked past Bobby's frame just in time to see Joshua wink at him behind the manager's back, before leaving with one of the porters. Once they had left Bobby spoke again. "Today man! I want these people moved today; they're destroying evidence as we speak."

"Y. . . Yes sir, right away sir. C'mon people we need to move you back so that the officers can get to work. If you would please make your way to the dining room, the officers will talk to you soon."

Bobby waited until the last dregs of people had left before dropping the act and gingerly scooting down to Sam and Dean's level, his left arm curling protectively around his ribs as he did so. "Dean, are you okay?" He asked, cupping the younger mans jaw and forcing him to look up. Bobby took in the tear stained cheeks and the pain filled worried eyes. "Aw, heck son, it'll be okay. Sam will be okay. We just need to get you and Sam out of here and somewhere safe."

"I can help you there." A soft voice stated from behind them, forcing them both to turn abruptly, Bobby's gun automatically rising. Jean raised her hands in defense, but still managed to get out. "I know a place that you can take your friend. No one ever uses it, so you'll be safe there."

"Why are you helping us?" Bobby asked.

"Because I know that you're not cops. Because I know that . . . that thing wasn't just some kind of TV show prank. And because a friend of mine was the first victim and the police have got no where. I saw what you did just then, you made it go away. I think you're the only ones that can stop it."

Bobby looked at Dean, his eyes asking the question his lips didn't. "Do you trust her?" Dean nodded his reply, the older man turning back to the girl. "Lead the way."

None of them had noticed Sam's keening stop. Nobody had noticed that his shaking had reduced to trembles. Nobody had noticed Sam's eyes opening, the tears still flowing as they stared blankly, dully, unblinking into space; his mind lost to the horrors he had just witnessed.

**A.N. . . . . I'm really worried about this chapter and I apologize now if I've disappointed some of you with it, I know it's not my best work, Peanut x**


	11. Chapter 11

A Simple Salt And Burn

**A Simple Salt And Burn**

**Summary. . . . . . . . A simple salt and burn Joshua had said, but when have things ever been simple for the Winchesters? Their first hunt since Gordon and Sam's new found ability takes an unexpected turn as they hunt something they have never hunted before and Sam's ability turns out to be not as controllable as they had at first thought.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . . Still only belong to me in my dreams. The mistakes though they're all mine!**

**A.N. . . . . . . Please, please forgive me for the huge wait for this update. Work woes combined with a seriously ill laptop have taken up all my time recently. I hope the content makes up for the wait? Enjoy, Peanut x**

Dean heard Bobby's words to Jean and bent back down focusing again all his attention back onto Sam. He noticed for the first time Sam's open eyes and couldn't help the smile that blossomed on his face, maybe things weren't as bad as he had originally thought, maybe Sam would be okay. He was to be disappointed though as he found out when he attempted to get Sam to focus on him. 

"Hey Sam, hey buddy." Dean softly spoke as his hand tilted Sam's head up. "How are you feeling?" At receiving no response Dean tried again. "Sam, c'mon talk to me."

Sam's eyes though refused to focus on Dean, refused to focus on anything, still staring into space, unblinking; his mouth opening and closing as though speaking, yet no words making them selves known. 

"Shit, shit, shit!" Dean ground out, looking back Bobby's way before he hurriedly added. "We need to go now. Something's wrong! Give me a hand please Bobby." Dean hated the fact that he had to ask for help carrying Sam, but he knew that he couldn't do it alone. Sam's injured shoulder would mean him being carried awkwardly and to do that he would need help. Turning Sam and pulling him into a sitting position so that his back was leaning into Dean's chest, Dean grasped the younger men around the ribs before waiting for Bobby.

Bobby took one look at Sam's haunted features before bending down and taking hold of the younger mans knees, talking to Jean as he did so. "Lead the way; let's get moving before the real cops show up."

Jean moved forward and after making sure that the guys had started to follow her began leading them away from the house, back through the gate and down one of the pathways that led in the opposite direction to the one Dean had previously used. Dean and Bobby had kept up with the sprightly young woman quite well until she had led them off onto another path, one that was less used and more rugged looking. Their pace from then on had slowed down considerably as they tried their best to keep to their feet, all the while trying hard not to jostle Sam too much. As Dean's foot caught on a half hidden rock yet again, and for the third time they nearly fell, his patience finally ran out and he angrily shouted at Jean. 

"How much further?"

Jean though took the anger for what it was, a combination of stress and worry, and answered. "We're nearly there I promise. It's just around that bend."

True to her word as they rounded the bend the cabin she had mentioned came into view, it didn't look like much but to Dean it was a sight for sore eyes, his pace quickened in his eagerness to get Sam inside and settled, eager to give his younger sibling a thorough checking over. Not one word, not one groan or moan of pain had come from Sam's mouth throughout his uncomfortable journey, his eyes still holding that tormented look, something that concerned and alarmed Dean.

The door creaked loudly on unused hinges as Jean pushed it open, the sound amplified in the otherwise quiet of the woods. As Dean walked backwards into the room he was immediately assaulted with the smell of mould and must, as Jean worked at lighting the few gas lamps scattered around, Dean could see disturbed dust floating in the air. He hoped that Sam would be okay to travel soon, whilst the cabin suited their purposes for now and kept them out of the police's spot light, Dean knew that the dirty, squalid room would do more harm than good to Sam's health.

Carrying him over to the small cot lining one wall, Dean and Bobby maneuvered around so that they could sit Sam down. Not wanting him to lie on the threadbare, sullied blanket, Dean quickly removed his jacket, placing it on the cot before urging an unresponsive Sam to lie down on it. Once they had Sam settled, Dean's adrenaline rush vanished, his energy gave out, and he sat with a thump on the dirty floor. Bringing his knees up to his chest, he rested his head upon them, his eyes never wavering from Sam's face.

Bobby, noticing the solitary tear that fell from Dean's eye; spoke up, wanting to give the brother's some time alone. "Dean, I'm going to walk Jean back to the guest house, just to make sure that she gets there safe. I'll meet up with Joshua and bring him back here. We'll get some provisions from the cars too." When Dean didn't acknowledge him, Bobby walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder adding. "We'll work this out son, you'll see. We'll get Sam back." Giving Dean's shoulder a final squeeze he turned to leave Dean's voice stopping him from getting too far.

"Be careful Bobby. I don't think it will come back tonight but if it does you can repel it with passages from the bible." Bobby nodded that he had heard before leaving, a reluctant Jean following close behind.

Alone with Sam, Dean's thoughts turned to how he had failed his brother yet again. His one task in life was to always look out for Sam, yet recently it seemed to be the one task he was failing at more and more, each time resulting in Sam being hurt. Dean placed his hand over Sam's head and started to gently stroke his unruly bangs, allowing his tears to finally fall and his whispered apologies to be heard.

"I'm so sorry Sam. I'm so sorry that I brought you here even though I thought it was a bad idea. I'm so sorry that I didn't believe you. I'm so sorry that I keep allowing you to get hurt."

So engrossed in releasing all the things he couldn't normally say to Sam if he was awake, Dean didn't notice the change in Sam at first, didn't notice the comfort his touch was bringing. It was only when Sam moved his head so that it buried deeper within Dean's jacket that Dean really looked at Sam once again. Although still not focusing on anything, although still haunted and fear filled, Sam's eyes were now at least blinking, tiredly and in time to Dean's stroking of his hair. 

"Hey Sammy, it's okay, you can sleep now, your safe. That's it little brother, close your eyes, rest a while."

Dean kept up the soothing massage long after Sam's eyes had finally drooped closed and his breathing had evened out, a small feeling of elation rising within him at the thought that Sam was still there, locked deep within himself, but still there. With his other hand he hastily wiped away the wetness from his cheeks. That would be the last time, he thought to himself, that he would allow himself to crack; all that negative energy would be used instead to bring Sam back, a job, a task that Dean refused to fail at this time.

Dean startled slightly as the door was pushed open and Bobby and Joshua walked in, overloaded with supplies, their own bags, and the Winchester's belongings. After placing all the bags on the floor, both men glanced over at Dean before Bobby asked for both of them.

"How's Sam doing?"

"He's asleep."

"Did he say anything? Snap out of it at all?"

"No."

"Are you okay, Dean?" Bobby asked, concerned at the short, almost angry answers he was receiving.

"No!" Dean replied, looking up at the older man for the first time since he had entered in to the room. 

Bobby almost took a step back from the intensity that shone from his eyes. He noticed the tear stained face, the guilt, anger and hurt that shrouded his features. "Don't you dare go blaming yourself for this one, Dean. Don't you dare."

"Why Bobby, why shouldn't I? I had my doubts about this hunt from the start; I didn't think Sam was up to it. I should have said no, that we weren't ready, to get someone else, but I didn't. Then we get here and Sam tells me exactly what we're dealing with and do you know what I did? I told him I didn't believe him, that he must have been delusional or something, that Red Caps weren't real. I'm the one that angered him, I'm the one that didn't trust him, I'm the one that pushed him so far that he felt the need to tackle the damn thing on his own. . . . ."

"Dean. . . . ." Joshua spoke this time, not getting any further before another tirade from Dean cut him off.

"Don't! Don't you dare say it's not my fault." Dean started; turning angry eyes Josh's way he added. "But then again it's not just my fault is it Josh? Simple salt and burn, those were your words weren't they Josh? Well if this is simple, I'd hate to see what you think is difficult."

Josh looked guiltily back at Dean wanting to come back with a smart retort, but he couldn't could he, Dean words after all rang true. He had already started to blame himself, so although they hurt and cut deep he didn't take offense to the younger man's harsh words. He tried to think of a way to ease Dean's mind, but in the end all he could come up with was. "You and Bobby check Sam over; see if he's injured himself anymore. I'm going to try and decipher his notes, try and figure out if he found some way to kill it." 

Dean glared after him until Bobby's voice shook him back to the here and now. "C'mon son, there will be plenty of time to play the blame game after we've fixed up Sam and figured out a way to kill that thing."

Dean watched as Bobby gingerly lowered himself to the ground and began to rummage through the first aid kit, questions forming in his mind, questions that needed answers. "What happened, Bobby? I tried calling but there was never any answer, did you get hurt on a hunt?"

"Nah, I kinda banged up my truck, didn't see that the road was nasty, lost control and hit a tree. No big deal, concussion and some cracked ribs, I'll be right as rain soon enough. C'mon let's check out Sam's shoulder, Josh said he had hurt it somehow?"

Dean could tell that Bobby was hiding something but didn't push the older man. He had just started to undo Sam's button down when it hit him. Bobby had said he had some researching to do, that he couldn't take this hunt because of it. He had no reason to have been out on the road, which meant that Bobby had gotten hurt rushing here after Dean had called him. Even more guilt began to rush Dean's head. 

"Don't even go there, son." Bobby's voice sounded out. Having noticed Dean stall in his undressing of Sam, Bobby knew that Dean had figured out what had happened and he was damned if he was going to let the kid blame himself for what was after all his own recklessness. "It wasn't your fault, so don't you even go there. You told me not to come, you told me you would be okay, but like you I had my doubts about this hunt, about you both being ready and I felt the need to check on you. I was the one not concentrating, I was the one going too fast, this was all my doing not yours. Now are you going to finish doing that?"

Dean knew that it would be useless to argue and continued to unbutton the shirt, part of him thankful for Bobby's words, part of him still feeling guilty for getting the older man hurt. He pushed his feelings aside, focusing all of his attention once more back onto Sam. The two men worked in silence as they assessed Sam, looking for more damage, thankful that apart from the original wound, which had pulled some stitches, and some bruising Sam's body seemed injury free; all the worse damage contained in his mind.

They had just lifted the still sleeping man up to place a cleaner blanket beneath him, when they heard Joshua's voice ring out. "Shit!" Looking up to the concerned stares of Bobby and Dean, he added. "We got a problem."

**A.N. . . . . I know that I took ages to post, but that doesn't mean I can't leave you with something to think about! Cliffies, you gotta love 'em! Thanks as always for reading, catch you soon, Peanut x**


	12. Chapter 12

A Simple Salt And Burn

**A Simple Salt And Burn.**

**Summary. . . . . . "A simple salt and burn" that's what Joshua had stated, but when has anything ever been simple for the Winchester's? Their first hunt since Sam's new found ability, finds things getting out of control as the ability is not as controllable as the thought and they face something they have never faced before.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . . Still don't belong to me; I'm only playing with Kripkie's action men. Mistakes, as always, their mine, all mine!**

**A.N. . . . . . . With this one, as with Broken Promises, I have to apologize for the lateness of the update. Things got away from me and I found it really difficult to get back into this. I hope, as always though, that you enjoy the chapter and thank you for reading. Oh and Kris! Thank you so much for the help!**

"We got a problem!" Joshua stated, immediately worrying Bobby and Dean.

"What do you mean, we got a problem?" Bobby's gravely voice replied.

"I mean, we have a problem. As in, oh shit can things get any worse, why can't we catch a break kinda problem!"

"I guess things are about to get worse then?" Dean asked humorlessly.

"Much worse." Joshua spoke, turning to look at the prone man on the bed. "For Sam!"

"What?" Dean shouted out. "What do you mean, for Sam?"

"I was checking through Sam's findings, Dean. He found out a hell of a lot of stuff about this thing." Joshua stated, a sense of pride creeping into his voice. "Some things you've already figured out, some I already knew, but there's stuff here that's ancient."

"Joshua! Do you have a point here? Or should we just wait for the Red Cap to attack to find out." Bobby asked.

"Okay, I was getting there. The point is that they are different to what I had always thought. Sam found out they don't attack and move on, if they taste blood but don't kill you the first time, they keep attacking until they do; they don't stop until they drain you. Sam is still in danger here." Joshua allowed that nugget to settle in before he added. "Sam also found out that as the Red Cap's need to finish off his victim becomes stronger, so does its ability to counter the bible passages."

"Well that's just great. So how do we stop it?" Dean shakily asked.

"I haven't figured that out yet from Sam's notes. As your saw for yourself some of his notes are unintelligible, I'm sorry but there's a chance I may never figure it out."

Dean's anger rose at his friend's negative words, which added to the stress of the past few days, forced him to lash out. "You sent us here, you told us it was a simple job, your poor research got Sam hurt and nearly killed, you will find a way to kill this or so help me god I will make you pay." Dean turned his attention back to Sam as he finished, not willing to look at the older man any longer, not willing to see the hurt he had put upon his face. He knew he was wrong in what he had said; he knew he was just as much to blame for Sam's predicament. As he looked at his brother, Dean felt anger at even him for what had happened, why hadn't he waited?

"Dean?"

"Don't Josh!"

"Dean?"

"What? I'm sorry okay, I'm sorry I lashed out at you, but can you just leave me alone and get back to finding a way out of this that doesn't involve Sam dying."

"Dean. . . . . . ." Josh took a step back as Dean turned livid eyes his way, but carried on. "Sam didn't go out to tackle it alone." He rushed out. At seeing the confused looks on both Bobby and Dean's faces he quickly added. "I spoke to some other guests, they remember seeing Sam outside. They said he was sleeping. I think he went to check things out, to scout out the area, got tired, and thought he would rest for a while but didn't realize just how tired his body was. He didn't plan to be out there Dean."

Dean's throat constricted, he just couldn't seem to get the words out that he needed to say, in the end he just nodded his appreciation for Joshua's words, before turning wet eyes back his brother's way; feeling all the more guiltier for thinking bad of Sam.

"So, what do we do? How do we stop it from attacking Sam again? How do we kill it?" Bobby eventually broke the silence.

"I don't know." Josh replied. "I think it would be best if we get Sam away from here, somewhere safe, until we figure this out."

"How do we know it won't follow us?" Dean asked this time.

"We don't. But I think it's attached to something here that won't let it."

"What if it won't let us leave? Or what if it does, but then goes after someone else?"

"Better them than Sam, Dean." Joshua stated.

"Are you going to be the one to tell Sam that? Tell him that we let someone die in his place?" Dean asked, turning towards the two men again.

"Dean?" Bobby's pacifying voice spoke out. "I don't see that we have any other choice. We don't know how to kill it, our only weapon against it is about to be ineffective, and we could lose Sam if we stay. We should take a chance and leave, research, recover and then come back and finish it."

Dean stuck between a rock and a hard place, struggled for an answer. He didn't want to lose Sam, but he knew that his brother wouldn't willingly agree to leave and place someone else at risk either. In the end a mission drummed into him years ago won out, always look out for Sammy. Sighing deeply he gave his answer. "Okay we leave in the morning. Let's batten down the place, make sure we survive till then."

"N. . . . . no."

The sound was so quiet Dean almost missed it, but as it sounded out once more, a little bit louder this time, he knew he hadn't.

"No. . . . . go."

"Sam? Sammy? Thank god, are you okay? Are you hurting? Do you need anything? What happened?"

Sam couldn't help the wince he made as Dean's barrage of questions assaulted his already over taxed body. He tried to open his heavy eyes to help ease his brother's worries, but couldn't manage to get them past mere slits, groaning this time as the harsh light sent shockwaves to his brain intensifying the agony he already felt. He tried to move to make himself more comfortable but every nerve ending, every fiber, every bit of his skin seemed to scream out in protest; tears leaking from his eyes as he tried to ride out the pain. He flinched and tried to move even further away as he felt Dean's hand rubbing up his shirt covered arm, trying to bring him comfort but involuntarily hurting him all the more. As Dean's hand moved to stroke his cheek, Sam again tried to move away from the comfort that was being offered, knowing that something inside of him was wrong, but it was no use.

Dean had turned back Sam's way when he heard his younger brother's whispered protests. Although angry at Sam's stubborn refusal to put himself before others and leave, he tried to hide it as he attempted to comfort his sibling, those attempts increasing as he saw Sam wince, and heard his groan of pain. When Sam flinched away from his comfort, a flash of hurt registered on Dean's face. Was Sam still angry with him? Did he hate Dean so much for what he had done, for what he had said that he was refusing his comfort? He quashed those thoughts, those feelings down as determined to ease Sam's pain, he reached towards his brother's face.

Try as he might, as Dean's fingers touched his bare skin, Sam couldn't stop the images escaping him and straight into his brother. As Dean tensed and cried out in agony Sam tried to ease the amount of hurt his brother received, as he had done previously, tried to stop the vision from passing over, but weakened as he was his efforts began to take their toll. Blood began pouring from his nose, sweat poured down his face, and his body began to shake uncontrollably.

Like a red rag to a bull, the sight of Sam's blood spurred Bobby into action. Seizing hold of Dean's hand he broke the contact between the two brothers, catching for himself some of the images and pain Sam was radiating. Easing Dean to the end of the bed, he quickly went about checking him over. As Joshua went to check Sam, he shouted out a warning. "Be careful, Josh! Only touch Sam where he's dressed. If you have gloves put them on first." Turning back to Dean, Bobby watched as he twitched occasionally and emitted small whimpers of pain. Noticing his eyes begin to open, he spoke. "Dean? You okay son?"

"What. . . . . what happened?" Dean groggily replied.

"Sam's powers! They kicked into overtime when you touched him. . . . ." Bobby was cut off as Dean struggled to rise, determined to make sure Sam wasn't hurt all the more. "Get your backside back down on that bed boy." He shouted out. "Joshua's looking after Sam. You need to rest. You need to tell me what you saw. Was there anything that could help us?"

Dean attempted to raise again, just needing to see with his own eyes that Sam was in fact still breathing, relaxing when he saw the rise and fall of his brother's chest. Closing his eyes he focused on the images he had just been witness too, feeling his stomach roll as he was reminded of the savagery of some of the attacks. Opening his eyes before the bile could rise any further, he turned to Bobby and answered.

"Yeah, yeah. I saw what Sam was working on, I saw his conclusions, I saw what he figured out, where its body is entombed. It was brought over in that big ole ass fountain. Sam even found a ritual that needs to be said to make sure that it is vanquished for good. We need to get this thing Bobby. We need to go get this thing now!"

"Dean, you're not fit to go anywhere yet, we'll rest. . . . . ."

"Rest! Rest! What happens if it comes back? You heard Josh; the more we use the passages the weaker it becomes. We need to do this now!"

"And what about Sam, Dean? If we do this now, who's gonna stay with Sam? Or do you suggest we leave him here alone and unprotected? We don't know if the salt lines and sigils will protect Sam against this thing."

"This is why we can't wait, why we need to finish this now."

Bobby knew that Dean was right, knew that time was of the essence. "Okay then, tell me what to do. Josh and I will go do this; you will stay here and watch over Sam."

"I don't know." Dean eventually answered. He hated not being the one who would defeat this thing, hated not being the one that would get some payback on the thing that hurt his brother, but Bobby was right he should be the one to stay with Sam. Looking back at Bobby he relented. "Okay, but be careful."

"We will son, you too. Now tell me what you found out."

**A.N. . . . . . Hope it was worth the wait? Will try and get the next update out quicker. Thanks again for reading, catch you soon, Peanut x**


	13. Chapter 13

**A Simple Salt And Burn.**

**Summary. . . . . . . "A simple salt and burn" Joshua had stated, but when had things ever been simple for the Winchester's? The brother's first hunt since Gordon's death and Sam's latest ability, takes a turn for the worst when they hunt something they have never hunted before and Sam's ability turns out to be not as controllable as they had thought. Sequel to What Goes Around Comes Around.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . . Still only borrowing them, I promise to give them back.**

**A.N. . . . . . . . . I am so very, very, very, very sorry to anyone who had been reading this fic, I took a break from it to get Broken Promises finished and just couldn't find the motivation to finish it. I hope you can all forgive me? As always thank you so much for reading, Peanut x**

Bobby stopped in the doorway of the cabin on his way out, turning back to Dean he spoke. "Be extra vigilant Dean. We know it's pattern is to attack between certain times, but it's getting hungry, and we're going to be disrupting it's resting place, you know from experience how angry that can make spirits. Keep your wits about you, and your eyes open. We'll be as quick as we can." With that he raced off into the woods, chasing after Joshua would had rushed ahead.

The two older hunters paused on the edge of the guest houses grounds, their eyes and ears open, looking and listening for any sign of police activity, happy to find their first bit of luck of the evening when only one lone patrolman could be seen roaming the area. Taking out his phone, Joshua dialed a number he had acquired earlier, speaking into the device when it was answered.

"We need your help again. We now where we need to look now, and how to get rid of it, but we need you to do two things for us." When he received a positive response he added. "Can you turn off the fountain, and distract the officer on guard so that we can sneak in?" Josh gave Bobby a thumbs up at yet again receiving another response that pleased him. Closing his phone, he waited with Bobby for Jean to help them.

Within seconds the fountain began to slow to a trickle before coming to a complete stop. The two men anticipating Jean's next move were both startled when Josh's phone began to vibrate in his pocket. Answering it he gave Bobby a puzzled look as Jean asked "meet me around the front" Shrugging his shoulders, but trusting the woman, Josh rose up and turned, ready to do what ever the woman asked. Jean was waiting for them as they rounded the last corner and made their way to the opulent opening at the front of the building.

"I thought this would be easier than just using my feminine wiles. Follow me."

Compliantly both hunters followed, both inquisitive as to what Jean was up too, both though willing yet again to put their complete trust in her. As she took them around the side of the house and back towards where the patrolman was standing guard, they began to worry that maybe that trust had been misplaced, when she spoke to the man though all their fears fled.

"Hi Kevin, don't mind us, we're just having some trouble with the fountain, these workmen are here to see if they can fix it." Turning to Bobby and Josh she stated. "Follow that pathway over there, it'll lead you straight to it." She whispered into Joshua's ear as he passed. "Be careful! I can probably keep him occupied for a couple of hours, after that you'll be on your own. Good luck." Before turning back to Kevin and putting those feminine wiles to use.

Josh and Bobby walked as fast as they could down the path, both men wanting to run but wouldn't risk alerting the cop. Reaching the fountain, they set down their weapons and tools and contemplated their next move. "There has to be a crack somewhere, Josh. Some way for the water to have seeped in and wet the cap, making it wake up. But where?"

Both men started looking around the outside searching for the elusive gap, and a way to find the Red Caps location, in the huge monument, both getting more and more frustrated as time wore on and still they could find nothing. It was Bobby who realized their mistake, he had finished searching his side and had stood up eager to stretch his aching bones. Watching as the last of the water began to drain from the fountain, he called to his friend as the large crack finally showed itself. "Josh, it's here."

Joshua stood up at Bobby's words his own back and knees protesting at being forced to have stooped for so long whilst searching. At seeing the crack Bobby had found he almost shouted in his determination, in the end settling for a quiet whisper. "Let's get to work! Let's salt this bitch!"

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Dean had taken Bobby's words to heart, his eyes flittering about the cabin constantly before resting every few minutes on Sam, who still lay so quiet and unmoving on the small cot. As time wore on though and his own exhaustion began wearing him down, Dean found himself focusing more and more on just Sam; whispering words of encouragement and hope into his brother's ear, tenderly stroking his arm wanting to bring his younger sibling some kind of comfort, the repetitive movement having the desired affect but Dean being the one that felt the comfort more. As he watched his hand move up and down Sam's arm, Dean's eyes began to become heavier, his breathing more even, his nerves more relaxed. Withing minutes he was asleep.

Jostled awake some time later, Dean immediately began scanning the room for what had disturbed him, thinking at first it could be Josh and Bobby returning. His face paled, and his eyes widened in shock though as he settled on Sam again and realized that it was him. Lay on the bed, his eyes still closed as though sleeping, Sam's head was thrashing wildly from side to side, sweat was pouring of his face and mixing with the rivers of blood that were cascading from his nose. Sam's groan of pain shook Dean from his trance and urged him into action, gripping his brother's good arm he shook him trying frantically to get him to awaken. It was no use though, Sam refused to open his eyes, and his groans only increased. Dean could only watch as Sam's head thrust back into his pillow, his body arching of the bed, and the blood began to be released all the faster.

He tried to push Sam back onto the bed, tried to prevent him from hurting his shoulder all the more, but try as he might he just couldn't manage to get Sam to calm down. He started crying tears of frustration, tears of desperation, praying all the while for just one spot of good luck, for all this to end and Sam to be resting safe. He almost believed in a higher being living amongst the clouds, when Sam thrashed once more and cried one last piercing cry, before becoming silent and still once again.

Dean knew though that he should have known better than to believe in luck as, whilst checking over Sam again, he heard the floorboards creaked ominously behind him. Turning sharply on his heels, Dean reacted quick enough to avoid the Red Cap's fist thrust of his pike. He desperately tried to figure out how it had gained entry to the cabin as it thrust the long weapon at him again, they had salted all the windows and doors hadn't they? As he maneuvered away from another lunge, Dean tried to recite the bible passages again, but the Cap's need for fresh blood was strong and the words did little to faze it at all. Managing to pull the pike from the beasts iron grip, Dean thought he had gained an upper hand, only to be quickly shown his mistake as the Red Cap advanced once again, it's speed and agility catching Dean out, it's iron claws raking his side, it's powerful arms throwing him across the small cabin. As his head collided with the cast iron range, Dean figured out where they had made their mistake, where it had gotten in, curses escaping his mouth at the stupid rookie mistake the three older hunters had made.

As darkness encroached his vision Dean could only watch, his body unresponsive to his pleas, as the Red Cap turned away from him, picked up it's pike and focused it's attention back on it's one true goal, Sam. Dean tried to get his wobbly limbs to coordinate, tried even harder to ward of the darkness, as he watched the Red Cap raise the weapon before thrusting it at Sam's chest, the point aiming for his heart. Dean stared amazed as the point stopped on it's downward thrust, suspended in air almost as though there was some kind of invisible barrier there. As he watched the blood begin to pour from Sam's nose and mouth this time, he finally figured out what was happening. Sam was using his powers. Knowing how weak his brother was, and how much using them took out of him, Dean forced his own hurting body to move.

Slowly he began to pull himself up on the range, losing focus and falling back down again as he heard Sam gasp out and watched as the blade tore into his siblings clothing. He pushed himself all the harder, needing to help in any way. Sam was weakening, the blade getting closer and closer. Finally getting to his feet Dean used the walls to steady himself as he started to move closer, trying his best to hurry. A sharp cry of pain from Sam though told him that time was running out, that he would not make it in time. Looking Sam's way he watched as his brother's head rolled to the side, watched as his body stopped arching, watched as the blade began to penetrate his skin. Pushing off the wall, forgetting all about his own aches and pains, Dean rushed forward, a cry of "NO!" coming from him and echoing around the small room; as at the same time a brilliant burst of flame lit the small space. As the light dimmed all that remained was too unconscious Winchester's and a strong smell of burnt flesh.

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Bobby and Joshua had rushed back to the cabin as soon as the flames had died down and they had tidied up. Knowing that the job was now finished they were both eager to pack up their things and the two Winchester's, and get the hell out of there. Opening the door they both baulked at the sight that greeted them. Lying on the floor was a bruised and battered Dean, Sam still lying on the cot but also bleeding again. As Bobby went to Sam this time, Josh went to Dean. After a quick glance and not liking what he saw Bobby spoke up.

"The damn bot messed up his stitches, he needs a hospital to fix it this time, he's probably lost a pint or two of blood as well. How's Dean?"

"He needs some stitches too, probably a concussion also, but I agree we should take them in to get them checked over."

"You know they're gonna be pissed when they wake and realize where they are?"

"Better pissed than dead! What do you think happened?"

"I don't know, and I'm not sure I wanna know. It's gone!"Bobby stole a quick glance at both boys, wishing that just for once they could catch a break. Looking back at Josh he asked. "How do ya wanna do this?"

Dean slept for two days after being admitted to hospital, all be it drug induced. Knowing the boy wouldn't rest, wouldn't care about his own injuries whilst Sam was so ill, Bobby had insisted on him receiving a sedative to which his doctor readily agreed once the circumstances were explained. Since wakening the previous day he had, true to form, spent every waking hour sat at Sam's bedside waiting for his younger brother to wake up. As the hours had steadily climbed, Dean frustration climbed also. He needed Sam to be awake, he needed to see for himself that he was okay; but Sam still slept on, his body recuperating and mending itself. In the end Dean had resorted to pleading, begging Sam to awaken, promising to listen to him in future.

It was during one of these begging sessions that Sam finally began to stir, his fingers and toes twitching, his eyes beginning to roll beneath their lids. Urging him on all the more Dean began talking random nonsense in an effort to get Sam to open his eyes.

"That's it little brother, that's it Sam, c'mon come back to me. I need you here, road tripping wont be the same without you. I'll even let you chose the music once in a while." If he wasn't listening so hard he might have missed the whispered response.

"You promise?"

"Hell yeah! On the next hunt you get to pick the music."

"Okay." Sam replied as for the first time in days he opened his eyes.

Dean watched nervously, looking for any sign that Sam was still angry with him. Sam's next words though reassuring him that that was not the case, that they would be fine, that as always they would mend and heal the wounds, both physical and verbal.

"Dean?"

"Yeah Sammy, are you okay?"

"Yeah just tired, promise me something?"

"What?"

"No more simple salt and burns."

**A.N. . . . . . . . . I just want to say a huge thank you to Darksupernatural who read over this for me, and pushed me to get this one finished. Again I'm so sorry for the really huge gap between updates. I hope you all enjoyed it anyway? Catch you soon, Peanut x**


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